(kirsty maccoll/pete glenister)

All it took was the time it takes
To smoke a cigarette or jam on the brakes
I nearly had it in my hands and now it's gone
Am I complaining 'bout by luck again?
Well it seems to me I was the one
Stood moaning in the morning sun
And now it doesn't matter much wherever I may roam
I keep feeling, feeling my way home

Now you see me, now you don't
You say you will but I know you won't
You nearly had me in your hands but now I'm gone
But not complaining 'bout my life again
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No siree, and what I've got belongs to me entirely

I look left and I look right and I cross this road alone
'cos I'm feeling my way
I may go up, I may go down but wherever I may roam
I keep feeling my way home

Shall I explain away my life again?
Well it seems to me it's too far gone
To wonder where it all went wrong
I get up and I get down but I get there on my own
And I'm feeling my way
I look left and I look right and I cross this road alone
'cos I'm feeling my way home

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