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Now...in this faraway landStrange...that the palms of my handsShould be damp with expectancySpring...and the air's turning mildCity lights...and the glimpse of a childOf the alleyway infantryFriends...do they know what I meanRain...and the gathering greenOf an afternoon out-of-townBut lord I had to goMy trail was laid too slow behind meTo face the call of fameOr make a drunkard's name for meThough now this other lifeHas brought a different understandingAnd from these endless daysShall come a broader sympathyAnd though I count the hoursTo be alone's no injury...My home...was a place near the sandCliffs...and a military bandBlew and air of normality
Now...in this faraway landStrange...that the palms of my handsShould be damp with expectancySpring...and the air's turning mildCity lights...and the glimpse of a childOf the alleyway infantryFriends...do they know what I meanRain...and the gathering greenOf an afternoon out-of-townBut lord I had to goMy trail was laid too slow behind meTo face the call of fameOr make a drunkard's name for meThough now this other lifeHas brought a different understandingAnd from these endless daysShall come a broader sympathyAnd though I count the hoursTo be alone's no injury...My home...was a place near the sandCliffs...and a military bandBlew and air of normality
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