King crimson: 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 a 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 better life
Has brought a different understanding
And through 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 by the sand
Cliffs… and a military band
Blew an air of normality. — King crimson: Exiles —