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words: John Lambert / Richard Ashrowan
music: John Lambert / Alan Darn
the torn days of winter
visit with us now
and the radio
the radio is crying
as its tears reveal the day
and the sky just tells me lies
to which i must somehow find a reply
you're just a shout
on the horizon
an echo in the rain
and i don't even
i don't even remember
quite what it was
we thought to gain
and the storm has come a howling
in from the east
blow away the leaves
the decisions of these pauper weeks
and we stood and talked like strangers
up there on the hill
in lines of lost confusion
just ripples on the stream
you're just a shout
on the horizon
an echo in the rain
and i don't even
i don't even remember
quite what it was
we thought to gain
the curse of indecision
comes calling
like a thief
a footstep on the threshold
whisper of belief
and the sky just tells me lies
which i must somehow sleep and dream
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