Ben Rumpson sings this as he walks along, meeting another citizen of the town, where conversation about people take place
When asked how he felt about his singing, he said, so Iv'e heard, "I sound like an old frog." If he didn't, I do.

You moving out, Ben?

-No.
Me, neither.
I guess there's two kinds
in the world, Ben.
People who move, people who stay.
Ain't that true?
No, that ain't true.
Well, what's true?
Oh, there's two kinds of people.
Them going somewhere
and them going nowhere...
and that's what's true.
I don't agree, Ben.
That's cos you don't know
what the hell I'm talking about.
I'm an ex-citizen of nowhere,

Sometimes I get mighty lonesome...

I was born under a wandrin' star
I was born under a wandrin' star
Wheels are made for rolling, mules are made to pack
I've never seen a sight that didn't look better looking back
I was born under a wandrin' star

Mud can make you prisoner and the plains can bake you dry
Snow can burn your eyes, but only people make you cry
Home is made for coming from, for dreams of going to
Which with any luck will never come true
I was born under a wandrin' star
I was born under a wandrin' star

Do I know where hell is, hell is in hello
Heaven is goodbye forever, its time for me to go
I was born under a wandrin' star
A wandrin' wandrin' star

(Mud can make you prisoner and the plains can bake you dry)
(Snow can burn your eyes, but only people make you cry)
(Home is made for coming from, for dreams of going to)
(Which with any luck will never come true)

musical break

I was born under a wandrin' star
I was born under a wandrin' star