Torn away from these lonely landscapes
We must all find what is ours
And see what is others'.
Fighting for some borderline,
Some territorial sublime.
I've seen fire on a winter's night
And ice on an aeroplane,
But through all of this, something must remain.
Desolation - a rose on a gravel slope,
No light, no time, no single hope.
I've seen this on a wild dance,
An aimless journey, aimed by chance.
Yet something still remains,
Stays the same.
Desperation halts the march,
The dart for an opening.
A quiet field or a groaning city
Gives small solace away.
But still something stays.
I can't go on, can't go on.
Give me another song, a day,
A route to get away
For my time is no longer today.
Birmingham, spring 1989
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