Lyrics Exiles - David Cross

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 from these endless days
Shall come a broader sympathy
Although I count the hours,
To be alone's no injury
My home was a place by the sound
Cliffs, and a military band
Blew an air of normality