Al Stewart
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The fishing boats go out across the evening water
Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border
The wind whips up the waves so loud
The ghost moon sails among the clouds
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 flare 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 village where I grew up
Nothing seems the same
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 at 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

The fishing boats go out across the evening water
Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border
The wind whips up the waves so loud
The ghost moon sails among the clouds
Turns the rifles into silver on the border

On the border
On the border
On the border


Mirror lyrics:

On the border
On the border
On the border

Turns the rifles into silver on the border
The ghost moon sails among the clouds
The wind whips up the waves so loud
Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border
The fishing boats go out across the evening water

But there's a strangeness in the air you feel too well
An empty shell
It's just the patterns that remain
Nothing seems the same
In the islands where I grew up

Telling us that we're all standing on the border
The spirit of the century
I thought I saw down in the street
I moved across the darkened room and in the lampglow
Late last night the rain was knocking at my window

And no-one notices the customs slip away
Still you never see the change from day to day
Nothing seems the same
In the village where I grew up

Has spread the word to those who're waiting on the border
The hand that sets the farms alight
The torches flare up in the night
From Africa the winds they talk of changes coming
On my wall the colours of the maps are running

Turns the rifles into silver on the border
The ghost moon sails among the clouds
The wind whips up the waves so loud
Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border
The fishing boats go out across the evening water


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