12 years old in Amsterdam in 1939
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A blue-eyed boy my clean complexion always got me by
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A boy with real potential sold secrets by the score
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Where refugees were hiding I'd just point out the doors
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In the golden age of steam I learned those German songs
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I had to stay alive there was no right or wrong
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In the golden age of steam
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The fatherland was rising the world would hear the roar
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Both sides fed and trusted me in 1944
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Trains ran on time those days oiling the machine
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Smoke rose up like serpents I was barely seventeen
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In the golden age of steam
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It's over now but not somehow
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I was a hero then to many men
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Switzerland was a short ride for an eager blond haired boy
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With a silver smile and loaded with jewellery to enjoy
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Maybe one day they'll come for me they'll take me from my bed
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A soldier of fortune that's what my passport read
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In the golden age of steam
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The Golden Age Of Steam
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| Steve Hackett |
