Sometimes you feel so far away,
|
distanced from all the action of the play,
|
unable to grasp significance,
|
marking the plot with diffident dismay,
|
stranded at centre stage,
|
scrabbling through your diary for a lost page:
|
unsure of the dream.
|
Kicking a stone across the beach,
|
aching for love and comfort out of reach:
|
the way ahead seems to be so bleak,
|
there's no-one with any friendship left to speak
|
or show any relation
|
between your present and future situations...
|
lost to the dream.
|
Away, away, away--look to the future day
|
for hope, some form of peace
|
within the growing storm.
|
I climb through the evening,
|
alive and believing
|
in time we shall all know our goals
|
and so, finally, home;
|
for now, all is secret -
|
though how could I speak it,
|
allow me the dream in my eye!
|
I've been waiting for such a long time
|
just to see it at last, all of the hands tightly clasped,
|
all of us pilgrims.
|
|
Walking in silence down the coast,
|
merely to journey - here hope is the most,
|
merely to know there is an end;
|
all of us - lovers, brothers, sisters, friends
|
hand in hand.
|
Shining footprints on the wet sand
|
lead to the dream.
|
The time has come, the tide has almost run
|
and drained the deep: I rise from lifelong sleep.
|
It seems such a long time
|
I've dreamed but now, awake,
|
I can see we are pilgrims and so
|
must walk this road,
|
unknown in our purpose,
|
alone, but not worthless,
|
and home ever calling us on.
|
We've been waiting here for so long,
|
all of our hands joined in hope,
|
holding the weight on the rope
|
all of us pilgrims.
|
|
-----------------
|
Pilgrims
|
Van Der Graaf Generator |