In days of peace --
sweet smelling summer nights
of wine and song;
dusty pavements burning feet.
Why am I crying, I want to know.
How can I smile and make it right?
For sixty days and eighty nights
and not give in and lose the fight.
I'm going back to the ones that I know,
with whom I can be what I want to be.
Just one week for the feeling to go --
and with you there to help me
then it probably will.
I won't go down
acting the same old play.
Give sixty days for just one night.
Don't think I'd make it: but then I might.
I'm going back to the ones that I know,
with whom I can be what I want to be.
Just one week for the feeling to go --
and with you there to help me
then it probably will.
| 1 | Aqualung |
| 2 | Living In The Past |
| 3 | Locomotive Breath |
| 4 | No Lullaby |
| 5 | A New Day Yesterday |
| 6 | Cross-Eyed Mary |
| 7 | Teacher |
| 8 | Reasons For Waiting |
| 9 | Budapest |
| 10 | Heavy Horses |