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

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): DAVID FRANCIS CROSS, JAMES RICHARD WILLIAM PALMER, JAMIE MUIR, JOHN KENNETH WETTON, RICHARD WILLIAM PALMER JAMES, ROBERT FRIPP, WILLIAM SCOTT BRUFORD