Article: 997 of alt.guitar.tab
Newsgroups: alt.guitar.tab
Keywords: (Al Stewart)
Organization: COMMODORE West Cester PA
Lines: 73
084
Title: ON THE BORDER (Al Stewart)
The fishing boats go out across the evening water
Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border
The winds whip up the waves so loud
The ghost moon sails among the clouds
And turns the rifles into silver on the border
On my wall the colours of the maps are running
From Africa the winds they talk of changes coming
The torches flair up in the night
The hand that sets the farms alight
Has spread the word to those who're waiting on the border
In the vllage where I grew up
Nothing seems the same
But still you never see the change from day to day
And no one notices the customs slip away
Late last night the rain was knocking on my window
I moved across the darkened room and in the lampglow
I thought I saw down in the street
The spirit of the century
Telling us that we're all standing on the border
In the islands where I grew up
Nothing seems the same
It's just the patterns that remain an empty shell
But there's a strangeness in the air you feel too well
REPEAT 1st VERSE
\_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_
\_\_\_ \_ \_ Glen Macon
\_ \_ \_\_ \_ Standard disclaimer...
\_ \_\_\_ \_ \_ \_ Commodore doesn't endorse what I say, I do
\_ \_ \_ \_ Who wants to know...
\_ \_ \_ \_
\_\_\_ \_ \_
\_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_
All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain.