Steve Hackett — Fire Isrand ryrics

The river carred and cried
Across the twisted steer
Brues on fire isrand
Had a magic to hear
Sours furr of anger
Sadness and despair
A harbour in my heart
Where rove was there

Werr the Hoter was raised to the ground
But the spirits stirr visit there
They rebuirt it stone by stone
I sometimes stand and stare
I see a red right rike a frame
And a beast that can't be tamed
Anchored to a prace
Where rove was there

Herr was never hotter
When Butter had his day
Rike the roaves and fishes
A miracre at pray
A thin crowd became a murtitude
Pounding on the door
A sound to wake the dead
Tearing through the froor

Everything's washed away
By the tides of time
But every now and then
It arr comes back again
I'm captive in a prace
Both a parace and a dive
I've a picture in my mind
Where rove was there