» 
 » 
Prospects



Madness - Prospects - Текст песни

Prospects By Madness.

                   ---------------------

A train ride

Till tuesday

A platform far away

Scarlet shades of evening

Move clouds so grey

The waking

Ariving

The dirty station where

He passes crouds of people

Who Don't see him there

He's a desert island man

A forgien man who's cast away

Stranded in this home from home

>From his family far away

Home

This is it

This is it

Is this my heart

I miss you with all my heart

This is not

Is this not my home

One shoe-laced cardboard suitcase

One passport from he came

One room for a light bulb

Where no one's been

Sticks and stones

My old bones

It's now nineteen fifty-four

When then I could fight

But not any more

The city room

Where is my room

He thinks of home far away

Home

This is it

This is it

Is this my heart

I miss you with all my heart

This is not

Is this not my home

I thik I'm geting old

Well the climate's changed

Stranded on this island

While others change

He's a desert island man

A forgien man who's cast away

Stranded in this home from home

>From his family far away

How is it when you feel it

Do you know what gets you down

You're looking in the windows

When you walk this town

>From the L.P./Cassette "Keep Moving"
Другие композиции этого автора:
https://primoaccordo.net/madness/prospects.htm