Exiles

Now in this faraway land Strange that the palms of my hands Should be damp with expectancy Spring, and the air's turning mild City lights and the glimpse of a child Of the alleyway infantry Friends, do they know what I mean? Rain and the gathering green Of an afternoon out of town But, Lord, I had to go Trail was laid too slow behind me To face the call of fame Or make a drunkard's name for me But now this better life Has brought a different understanding And through these endless days Shall come a broader sympathy And though I count the hours To be alone's no injury My home was a place by the sand Cliffs and a military band Blew an air of normality