It took fourteen hours to hitch from London to Portsmouth I can picture you in your battered old coat Blown by the trucks on the side of the road Cursing the world just until one pulls over
And you laugh with the man, but you think of another
The cab is warm, the driver is talking And oh if he had his time over again Stealing away around each darkened corner The ghost of your father always, always watching And he waits for you when the black tide comes
And you feel the ghost of your father waiting An unbearable stillness hangs over these days Humming with the promises broken The bewildered watch from behind misted
As the ambitious and lucky get to feed on the carcass When you feel so much in such a small space Do you think you can keep on running Like the papers that blow down your empty street
Outside in the dark when you cannot sleep The ghost of your father always, always watching And he waits for you when the black tide comes Do you feel the ghost of your father waiting?.
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