Internal Exile

I saw a blue umbrella in Princes Street Gardens Heading out west for the Lothian Road An Evening News stuffed deep in his pocket Wrapped up in his problems to keep away the cold Grierson's spirit haunts the dockyards Where the only men working are on Documentary crews Shooting film as the lines get longer As the seams run out, as the oil runs dry Hey there laddie, Internal Exile When will you realise we've got to let go? Hey there lassie, Internal Exile When will you realise we've got to let go? Starlings wheeling round Georgian spires And the fires of Grangemouth burn the skies A lion sleeps in a tenement close In a country that's tired and deaf to his roar Hey there laddie, Internal Exile When will you realise we've got to let go? Hey there lassie, Internal Exile When will you realise we've got to let go? They bury a wasteland deep in the wilderness Poison the soil and reap the harvest Of blind indifference, greed and apathy Sowed way back in our history The fish are few the harbours empty The keels now rot on our oil-slicked shores The sheep are gone, the farms deserted We're out of sight and we're out of mind Hey there laddie, Internal Exile When will you realise we've got to let go? Hey there lassie, Internal Exile When will you realise we've got to let go? Like our fathers before us We've eyes for America Dream of a new life on foreign shores But wherever we go, we'll always know That the land we stand on is never our own Hey there laddie, Internal Exile When will you realise we've got to let go? Hey there lassie, Internal Exile When will you realise we've got to let go?