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(Hammill) |
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North was somewhere years ago and cold: |
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Ice locked the people's hearts and made them old. |
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South was birth to pleasant lands, but dry: |
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I walked the waters' depths and played my mind. |
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East was dawn, coming alive in the golden sun: the winds came, gently, several heads became one in the summertime, though august people sneered; we were at peace, and we cheered. |
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We walked alone, sometimes hand in hand, between the thin lines marking sea and sand; smiling very peacefully, we began to notice that we could be free, and we moved together to the |
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West. West is where all days will someday end; where the colours turn from grey to gold, and you can be with the friends. |
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And light flakes the golden clouds above all; |
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West is Mike and |
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Susie, West is where |
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I love. There we shall spend our final days of our lives; tell the same old stories: yeah well, at least we tried. |
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Into the West, smiles on our faces, we'll go; oh, yes, and our apologies to those who'll never really know the way. |
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We're refugees, walking away from the life that we've known and loved; nothing to do or say, nowhere to stay; now we are alone. |
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We're refugees, carrying all we own in brown bags, tied up with string; nothing to think, it doesn't mean a thing, but we'll be happy on our own. |
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West is Mike and |
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Susie; West is where |
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I love, West is refugees' home. |
