Refugees

	(Hammill)
	North was somewhere years ago and cold:
	Ice locked the people's hearts and made them old.
	South was birth to pleasant lands, but dry:
	I walked the waters' depths and played my mind.
	East was dawn, coming alive in the golden sun: the winds came, gently, several heads became one in the summertime, though august people sneered; we were at peace, and we cheered.
	We walked alone, sometimes hand in hand, between the thin lines marking sea and sand; smiling very peacefully, we began to notice that we could be free, and we moved together to the
	West. West is where all days will someday end; where the colours turn from grey to gold, and you can be with the friends.
	And light flakes the golden clouds above all;
	West is Mike and
	Susie, West is where
	I love. There we shall spend our final days of our lives; tell the same old stories: yeah well, at least we tried.
	Into the West, smiles on our faces, we'll go; oh, yes, and our apologies to those who'll never really know the way.
	We're refugees, walking away from the life that we've known and loved; nothing to do or say, nowhere to stay; now we are alone.
	We're refugees, carrying all we own in brown bags, tied up with string; nothing to think, it doesn't mean a thing, but we'll be happy on our own.
	West is Mike and
	Susie; West is where
	I love, West is refugees' home.