| No cloud, a sleepy calm
|
| Sunbaked earth that’s cooled by gentle breeze
|
| And trees with rustling leaves
|
| Only endless days without a care
|
| Nothing must be done
|
| Silent as a day can be
|
| Far-off sounds of others on their chosen run
|
| As they do all those things they feel give life some meaning
|
| Even if they’re dull
|
| Time to stop this dreaming, must rejoin the real world
|
| As revealed by orange lights and a smokey atmosphere
|
| The trees and I are shaken by the same winds but whereas
|
| The trees will lose their withered leaves
|
| I just can’t seem to let them loose
|
| And they can’t refresh me those hot winds of the south
|
| Feel like an alien, a stranger in an alien place
|
| Now the light is fading fast
|
| Chances slip away, a time will come to pass
|
| When there’ll be none
|
| Then addicted to a perfumed poison
|
| Betrayed by its aftertaste
|
| We shall lose the wonder and find nothing in return
|
| Many are the substitutes but they’re powerless on their own
|
| Beware the fisherman who’s casting out his line
|
| Into a dried up river bed
|
| But don’t try to tell him 'cos he won’t believe you
|
| Throw some bread to the ducks instead, it’s easier that way
|
| Feel like an alien, a stranger in an alien place
|
| The trees and I are shaken by the same winds but whereas
|
| The trees will lose their withered leaves
|
| I just can’t seem to let them loose
|
| And they can’t refresh me those hot winds of the south
|
| Feel like an alien, a stranger in an alien place |