Al Stewart - On The Border |
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On The Border
Al Stewart The fishing boats go out across the evening water The ghost moon sails among the clouds Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border The wind whips up the waves so loud Turns the rifles into silver on the border From Africa the winds they talk of changes coming On my wall the colours of the maps are running The torches flare up in the night Has spread the word to those who're waiting on the border The hand that sets the farms alight In the village where I grew up Still you never see the change from day to day Nothing seems the same And no I moved across the darkened room and in the lampglow I thought I saw down in the street Late last night the rain was knocking at my window The spirit of the century Telling us that we're all standing on the border Nothing seems the same An empty shell In the islands where I grew up It's just the patterns that remain The fishing boats go out across the evening water But there's a strangeness in the air you feel too well Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border The ghost moon sails among the clouds The wind whips up the waves so loud Turns the rifles into silver on the border On the border On the border On the border |
