| So I find myself among
|
| The brave Southwestern hills
|
| Running like a madman on the moor
|
| Let the sweet Atlantic rain
|
| Wash away my youth
|
| The Men-An-Tol shone strangely in the storm
|
| I get the strangest feeling
|
| In the air around
|
| It’s more than just a feeling
|
| A different way of seeing
|
| A different kind of life
|
| Something I believe in
|
| But in amongst the city lights
|
| The feeling’s not so clean
|
| Neon lights and faceless signs
|
| Hide what I hold dear
|
| It’s there to find
|
| If you have the mind
|
| And you don’t live in fear of it
|
| I rest among what still remains
|
| Of life’s that passed before
|
| Lighting strikes the top of Zen nor Tor
|
| I find myself amazed again
|
| At man’s pathetic score
|
| Years of knowledge wasted and ignored
|
| I get the strangest feeling
|
| In the air around
|
| It’s more than just a feeling
|
| A different way of seeing
|
| A different kind of life
|
| Something I believe in
|
| Here amongst the city lights
|
| Feeling’s not so clean
|
| Faceless lights with neon shine
|
| Hide what I hold dear
|
| It’s there to find
|
| If you have the mind
|
| And you don’t live in fear of it
|
| I get the strangest feeling
|
| Something I believe in
|
| Here amongst the city lights
|
| Feeling’s not so clean
|
| Faceless lights with neon signs
|
| Hide what I hold dear
|
| It’s there to find
|
| If you have the mind
|
| And you don’t live in fear of it
|
| I get the strangest feeling
|
| It’s more than just a feeling
|
| A different way of seeing
|
| A different kind of life
|
| It’s something I believe in |