Refugees

(Hammill)

North was somewhere years ago and cold:

Ice locked the people's hearts and made them old.

South was birth to pleasant lands, but dry:

I walked the waters' depths and played my mind.

East was dawn, coming alive in the golden sun: the winds came, gently, several heads became one in the summertime, though august people sneered; we were at peace, and we cheered.

We walked alone, sometimes hand in hand, between the thin lines marking sea and sand; smiling very peacefully, we began to notice that we could be free, and we moved together to the

West. West is where all days will someday end; where the colours turn from grey to gold, and you can be with the friends.

And light flakes the golden clouds above all;

West is Mike and

Susie, West is where

I love. There we shall spend our final days of our lives; tell the same old stories: yeah well, at least we tried.

Into the West, smiles on our faces, we'll go; oh, yes, and our apologies to those who'll never really know the way.

We're refugees, walking away from the life that we've known and loved; nothing to do or say, nowhere to stay; now we are alone.

We're refugees, carrying all we own in brown bags, tied up with string; nothing to think, it doesn't mean a thing, but we'll be happy on our own.

West is Mike and

Susie; West is where

I love, West is refugees' home.