When they came from the road
I had no strength to carry on
And the one's that had come with me
were vansihed and gone
Run away, run away, high on desert plains
Four and twenty days out on the trail
I slipped out of the headlights and I kept out of sight
I slept in the dunes and I walked through the night
I was picked up by a 4x4 and then a flatbed truck
It was a very welcome stroke of luck
I went to sleep inside a warehouse
There were many more like me
Laying low and working any odd job
Saving money for the trip across the sea
There's a place where the dunes block
the view from the road
And where no prying eye see the ferryman load
His ancient motor boad, his brimming cargo hold
We packed together there young and old
There were no lights from the coastline
When the old boat sprang a leak
People clinging to the parapets
As I jumped into the blackness of the sea
When they pulled us from the ocean
There was not a sound but for a woman crying
We were sat out on the freezing deck
Where some of were rolling up and dying
Rome, home to the undying
Where the warm wind weeps
See the young man in the station
As he rocks himself to sleep
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
