Catch a cloud, roll out to sea Waves of clover rolling over me Shifting sand beneath my feet Touch the water, clear and sweet So good to be alone On my last time home
Feathered wings against the sky Take my mind to soar up very high Dying memories so fleet Wind away down many-cornered streets And I feel picked to the bone On this my last time home
Here I see my friends come a-running Sure to be some kind of judgement Some kind of judgement coming
Turn my back against the rain Hear the tapping on my windowpane Feel the movement from within Watch the restless mood begin My soul will soon be blown From this my last time home