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 better life Has brought a different understanding And through 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 ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh ooh, ooh aah aah
Written by: DAVID FRANCIS CROSS, JAMES RICHARD WILLIAM PALMER, JAMIE MUIR, JOHN KENNETH WETTON, RICHARD WILLIAM PALMER JAMES, ROBERT FRIPP, WILLIAM SCOTT BRUFORD
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
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