Turned out on the streets again
These evictions never end
I bare smile but it 's pretend because
The future looks bleak to me
There's just a faint hope in the wind
I'm sitting on Whitesand bay
I spend most days
Mapping out the sun and the shade
How lonely life can be
When you can settle of find peace
When you've a map
But you own the key
When you've out stayed every single place
No on's got the time or space
You pack the things again
Packing up again
Moving on again
You're throwing out your deadwood again
Basques need a place
The Irsih need their place
I need a place
Everybody needs a place
But when the wind blows
You must up your anchor and go...
AnnA e CriStiano
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