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turkce

king crimson - exiles

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 the 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
the trail was laid too slow behind me
to face the call of fame
or make a drunkard\'s name for me
but now this better life
has brought a different understanding
and through these endless days
shall come a broader sympathy
and though i count the hours
to be alone\'s no injury...

my home...was a place by the sand
cliffs...and a military band
blew an air of normality