Magna Carta Ticket To The Moon
I was walking through the subway to the lunch-stand on
the downside
I was checking out the faces, on a northern April day
There's a comfort in the voices, although no-one has my
number
and I wrap around the freeze frames, of a time not long
ago
I was younger then and growing, on a street that had no
exit
the factories and the neon, just another northern town
I gave you tea and sympathy, you gave me dreams in
amber
I was halfway down to paradise and a ticket to the moon
The wind still tastes of winter and I feel the urge for
going
from the grit-stone and the bus-stops, to the jungle
and the sand
through the drizzle Heathrow dawning, there's a door to
endless summer
where always is forever and forever never comes
I look at my reflection, in the Ras Al Hamra window
it's the face that asks the question, it's the face
that knows so well
I gave you tea and sympathy, you gave me dreams in
amber
I was halfway down to paradise and a ticket to the moon
I was walking through the subway to the lunch-stand on
the downside
I was checking out the faces, on a northern April day
I gave you tea and sympathy, you gave me dreams in
amber
I was halfway down to paradise and a ticket to the moon
