| A fence is stretched across my brow | |
| A divided country: then and now, | |
| And you the border guard | |
| My caravan waved off the track | |
| With dusty miners hid in back, | |
| Their faces glowing hard … | |
| Bruised and black and hunkered down, | |
| From sparkling fuses underground, | |
| And digging the way through | |
| To surface on some other side | |
| With time to burn, a past to hide, | |
| And one eye out for you | |
| WIth letters cut from magazines | |
| I hide my hand and speak between | |
| The truth and what I need | |
| I lift the face of something strong, | |
| To mask the shadow growing long | |
| And blur what it concedes… | |
| I've found myself out on a range | |
| Found the mirror staring strange, | |
| Demanding what I knew | |
| Of tell-tale stripes across my back | |
| The eyes I keep - each blue and black, | |
| And both of them out for you | |
| Now I've crossed into some northern town | |
| Where winds rise up and stars come down | |
| And no one knows my name | |
| I stitch a coat from what I find | |
| And weave a story in my mind | |
| With nothing such as blame … | |
| I scrawl out pages, watch them burn | |
| The jumpy horses nod in turn, | |
| The way I need them to | |
| Before I run them to the fields | |
| As buildings blaze and dot the hills | |
| Like all eyes out for you |
| A fence is stretched across my brow | |
| A divided country: then and now, | |
| And you the border guard | |
| My caravan waved off the track | |
| With dusty miners hid in back, | |
| Their faces glowing hard | |
| Bruised and black and hunkered down, | |
| From sparkling fuses underground, | |
| And digging the way through | |
| To surface on some other side | |
| With time to burn, a past to hide, | |
| And one eye out for you | |
| WIth letters cut from magazines | |
| I hide my hand and speak between | |
| The truth and what I need | |
| I lift the face of something strong, | |
| To mask the shadow growing long | |
| And blur what it concedes | |
| I' ve found myself out on a range | |
| Found the mirror staring strange, | |
| Demanding what I knew | |
| Of telltale stripes across my back | |
| The eyes I keep each blue and black, | |
| And both of them out for you | |
| Now I' ve crossed into some northern town | |
| Where winds rise up and stars come down | |
| And no one knows my name | |
| I stitch a coat from what I find | |
| And weave a story in my mind | |
| With nothing such as blame | |
| I scrawl out pages, watch them burn | |
| The jumpy horses nod in turn, | |
| The way I need them to | |
| Before I run them to the fields | |
| As buildings blaze and dot the hills | |
| Like all eyes out for you |
| A fence is stretched across my brow | |
| A divided country: then and now, | |
| And you the border guard | |
| My caravan waved off the track | |
| With dusty miners hid in back, | |
| Their faces glowing hard | |
| Bruised and black and hunkered down, | |
| From sparkling fuses underground, | |
| And digging the way through | |
| To surface on some other side | |
| With time to burn, a past to hide, | |
| And one eye out for you | |
| WIth letters cut from magazines | |
| I hide my hand and speak between | |
| The truth and what I need | |
| I lift the face of something strong, | |
| To mask the shadow growing long | |
| And blur what it concedes | |
| I' ve found myself out on a range | |
| Found the mirror staring strange, | |
| Demanding what I knew | |
| Of telltale stripes across my back | |
| The eyes I keep each blue and black, | |
| And both of them out for you | |
| Now I' ve crossed into some northern town | |
| Where winds rise up and stars come down | |
| And no one knows my name | |
| I stitch a coat from what I find | |
| And weave a story in my mind | |
| With nothing such as blame | |
| I scrawl out pages, watch them burn | |
| The jumpy horses nod in turn, | |
| The way I need them to | |
| Before I run them to the fields | |
| As buildings blaze and dot the hills | |
| Like all eyes out for you |
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