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:
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the winds came, gently, several heads became one
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in the summertime, though august people sneered;
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we were at peace, and we cheered.
|
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We walked alone, sometimes hand in hand,
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between the thin lines marking sea and sand;
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smiling very peacefully,
|
we began to notice that we could be free,
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and we moved together to the West.
|
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West is where all days will someday end;
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where the colours turn from grey to gold,
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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 Susie,
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West is where I love.
|
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There we shall spend our final days of our lives;
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tell the same old stories: yeah well,
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at least we tried.
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Into the West, smiles on our faces, we'll go;
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oh, yes, and our apologies to those
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who'll never really know the way.
|
|
We're refugees, walking away from the life
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that we've known and loved;
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nothing to do or say, nowhere to stay;
|
now we are alone.
|
We're refugees, carrying all we own
|
in brown bags, tied up with string;
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nothing to think, it doesn't mean a thing,
|
but we'll be happy on our own.
|
West is Mike and Susie;
|
West is where I love,
|
West is refugees' home.
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Refugees
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| Van Der Graaf Generator |
