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 The 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 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 by the sand Cliffs and a military band Blew an air of normality
composed by: Bill Bruford David Cross Robert Fripp Jamie Muir Richard Palmer-James John Wetton
