Searchlights

I see fences where there was no fence before
Flesh-tearing wire hasn’t even rusted 'round the door
Oh aye, the beauty that I could show to you
Outside in the distance I hear something coming through
Oh I said, outside in the distance there is something coming through
And outside in the distance where those searchlights don’t go
There’s an immigrant who’s crouching with the bundle of his clothes
The bushes start a-rustling, so he takes to his toes
Just singing «This is the last of my shows…»
Here, beyond the wire, you turn the water black
The men around you paid a weekly wage, just to turn you back
Oh how they keep their petty kingdoms well in view
Outside in the distance I hear something coming through
Oh I said, outside in the distance there is something coming through
And outside in the distance where those searchlights don’t go
There’s an immigrant who’s crouching with the bundle of his clothes
The bushes start a-rustling, so he takes to his toes
Just singing «This is the last of my shows…»
A crossroads is no crossroads when there’s but one route to take
Your fantasy of liberty is a red sign on the gate
I think these thoughts as I walk along a tree-lined avenue
Outside in the distance I hear something coming through
Oh I said, outside in the distance there is something coming through
And outside in the distance where those searchlights don’t go
There’s an immigrant who’s crouching with the bundle of his clothes
The bushes start a-rustling, so he takes to his toes
Just singing «This is the last of my shows…»