I count the hours: you count the days
Together, we count the minutes in this passion play
Walk dusty miles and I ride that train
On a first class ticket, just to be with you again
Picking up tired feet back from a far horizon
Cleaned up and brushed down dressed to look the part
Fresh from god?s garden, I bring a gift of roses:
To stand in sweet spring water and press them to your heart
Like the kipling cat, I walk alone -
Never inviting trouble, never casting the stone
But this badge of honour is of tarnished tin
Lightyour guiding beacon to bring this fisher in