Tytuł: Exiles

• Wykonawca: King Crimson
• Wyświetleń: 286

  
   Now...in this faraway land
  Strange...that the palms of my hands
  Should be damp with expectancy
  
  Spring...and the air's turning mild
  City lights...and the glimpse of a child
  Of the alleyway infantry
  
  Friends...do they know what I mean
  Rain...and the gathering green
  Of an afternoon out-of-town
  
  But Lord I had to go
  My trail was laid too slow behind me
  To face the call of fame
  Or make a drunkard's name for me
  Though now this other life
  Has brought a different understanding
  And from these endless days
  Shall come a broader sympathy
  And though I count the hours
  To be alone's no injury...
  
  My home...was a place near the sand
  Cliffs...and a military band
  Blew and air of normality