Jehtro Tull

Ears Of Tin



In the late hours of a sunset rendezvous ---
chill breeze against tide, that carries me from you.
Got a job in a southern city --- got some lead-free in my tank.
Now I must whisper goodbye --- I"m bound for the mainland.
 
Island in the city, Cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. Groundswell of humanity.
 
Now the sum breaks through rain as I climb Glen Shiel
on the trail of those old cattlemen who drove their bargain south again.
And in the eyes of those five sisters of Kintail
there"s a wink of seduction from the mainland.
 
Island in the city. Cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. Groundswell of humanity.
Storm-lashed on the high-rise --- their words are spray to the wind.
Blown like silent laughter. Falling on ears of tin.
 
Take my heart and take my brawn.
Take by stealth or take by storm ---
set my brain to cruise.
I can see the glow of the suburb lights.
I"m fresh from the out-world ---
singing the mainland blues.
 
There was a girl where I came from.
Seems a long time, long time gone by.
Wears the west wind in her hair.
She calls from the hill --- yeah, she calls
in my mainland blues.
 
There"s a coast road that winds to heaven"s door
where a fat ferry floats on muted diesel roar.
And there"s a light on the hillside --- and there"s a flame in her
eyes, but how cold the lights burn on the mainland.
 
Island in the city. Cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. Groundswell of humanity.
Storm-lashed on the high-rise --- their words are spray to the wind.
Blown like silent laughter. Falling on ears of tin
in my mainland blues.