(M & J Schaub)

The washed out stars they hang so low
The trains stand still, they don’t know where to go
The music’s stopped, the town’s gone quiet
I feel the first chill of the winter night
Coming from the firth of Clyde

But you’re far from here
Far from Glasgow
In a distant past you and I were one
Far from here
Far from Glasgow
Down the Avenue
Gothenburg in bloom in May
I’m waiting in the Scottish rain

And so I learned to love this town
It took a while but now I call it mine
The dirty houses and the streets
I’ve left my fingerprints on every wall
The pavements bare the mark of my feet.

But you’re far from here…

Silence, silence all around
Sleight grey black and hundred shades of brown
The colours of this God forsaken town

And you’re far from here…