Exiles

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 other 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 near the sand

Cliffs...and a military band

Blew and air of normality

Songtext: Palmer-James, Richard W.