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
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 other life
Has brought a different understanding
And from 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 near the sand
Cliffs…and a military band
Blew and air of normality