Exiles

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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 injury...

My home... was a place near the sand
Cliffs... and a military band
Blew an air of normality

 

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from the album

Larks' Tongues in Aspic