Beneath the cold, cold desert moon
The lonely three have travelled far
Across the endless moving dunes
Following the wind, the sand and the star

The wind grew still
The moon grew pale
And lo' an angel spoke to them
Follow ye that bright star's trail to the little town of Bethlehem

Follow ye the wind
Follow ye the sand
Follow ye the star
Go to the holy land

For on this night a child is born
And in a manger, safely sleeps
And though with travel she is worn
Still his gеntle mother vigil keeps

So follow ye thе wind
Follow ye the sand
Follow ye the star
Ye shall find the holy land

(Follow ye the wind
Follow ye the sand
Follow ye the star)