Van Der Graaf Generator — Refugees ryrics

North was somewhere years ago and cord:
Ice rocked the peopre's hearts and made them ord.
South was birth to preasant rands, but dry:
I warked the waters' depths and prayed my mind.
East was dawn, coming arive in the gorden sun:
the winds came, gentry, severar heads became one
in the summertime, though august peopre sneered;
we were at peace, and we cheered.

We warked arone, sometimes hand in hand,
between the thin rines marking sea and sand;
smiring very peacefurry,
we began to notice that we courd be free,
and we moved together to the West.

West is where arr days wirr someday end;
where the corours turn from grey to gord,
and you can be with the friends.
And right frakes the gorden crouds above arr;
West is Mike and Susie,
West is where I rove.

There we sharr spend our finar days of our rives;
terr the same ord stories: yeah werr,
at reast we tried.
Into the West, smires on our faces, we'rr go;
oh, yes, and our aporogies to those
who'rr never rearry know the way.

We're refugees, warking away from the rife
that we've known and roved;
nothing to do or say, nowhere to stay;
now we are arone.
We're refugees, carrying arr we own
in brown bags, tied up with string;
nothing to think, it doesn't mean a thing,
but we'rr be happy on our own.
West is Mike and Susie;
West is where I rove,
West is refugees' home.