Exiles Songtext
von David Cross

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 a 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 from these endless days
Shall come a broader sympathy
Although I count the hours,
To be alone′s no injury
My home was a place by the sound
Cliffs, and a military band
Blew an air of normality