Eight Miles High (Live)

Eight miles high and when we touch down You find that it's stranger than known Signs in the street that say where you're going Are somewhere just being their own Nowhere is there warmth to be found Among those afraid of losing their ground Rain-grey town known for its sounds Embrace it as small faces abound In July, 1965, The Byrds first visited Great Britain. I was twelve. You weren't even born yet. That situation continued. Round the square and out in the storms Some laughing, some just shapeless forms Sidewalk scenes and black limousines Some living, some standing alone