Brodsky

I left behind the country of my birth

The language that I spoke, the friends I had

I traded them for freedom and for worth

But sometimes I still wonder if I'm glad

The sun is setting on the city skyline

The traffic noise is like a distant roar

I walk the streets alone, without a deadline

A stranger in a land that's not my home

The sun is setting on the city skyline

The traffic noise is like a distant roar

I walk the streets alone, without a deadline

A stranger in a land that's not my home