Closed Hand, Full Of Friends

The scenery's changing

And it warms my soul

I'm two hundred miles down

And a long way yet to go

So get your boots on

And your walking coat

And we'll together leave our footprints

Out upon the virgin snow

That ancient sunrise

Will soon descend

And we'll be left here pondering

On the things which we can depend

So let's start over

With no means to an end

Just an open-hearted hope and a closed hand, full of friends

Yeah, well, london was alright but I was dead in the water

Couldn't see in its light, I couldn't kneel at its altar

All I wanted was to tear it right down to the ground

But I'm feeling alright now,

Yeah, I'm feeling alright

Every morning

When the coffee's on

And I rediscover that color in your eyes

And it's gold and it's bronze

And in the moonlight

We'll get the candles going

With the recitations of the parish poets popping on our tongues

Yeah, well, london was alright but I was dead in the water

Couldn't see in its light, I couldn't kneel at its altar

All I wanted was to tear it right down to the ground

And then sing from the fleeting-less culture

And hide it away from all the wolves and the vultures

All they wanted was to tear me right down to the ground

But I'm feeling alright now

Yeah, I'm feeling alright

In the recitations of the parish poets

In the building of the bowers and in the loch tay boats

I will find my means to an end

With an open-hearted hope and a closed hand, full of friends