В детстве я метался между наукой и искусством. Я занимался сразу и физикой, и химией, и математикой, но так нельзя. Выбирать было тяжело...
"Ears Of Tin"
In the late hours of a sunset rendezvous ---
chill breeze against tide, that carries me from you.
Got a job in a southern city --- got some lead-free in my tank.
Now I must whisper goodbye --- I'm bound for the mainland.
Island in the city, Cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. Groundswell of humanity.
Now the sum breaks through rain as I climb Glen Shiel
on the trail of those old cattlemen who drove their bargain south again.
And in the eyes of those five sisters of Kintail
there's a wink of seduction from the mainland.
Island in the city. Cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. Groundswell of humanity.
Storm-lashed on the high-rise --- their words are spray to the wind.
Blown like silent laughter. Falling on ears of tin.
Take my heart and take my brawn.
Take by stealth or take by storm ---
set my brain to cruise.
I can see the glow of the suburb lights.
I'm fresh from the out-world ---
singing the mainland blues.
There was a girl where I came from.
Seems a long time, long time gone by.
Wears the west wind in her hair.
She calls from the hill --- yeah, she calls
in my mainland blues.
There's a coast road that winds to heaven's door
where a fat ferry floats on muted diesel roar.
And there's a light on the hillside --- and there's a flame in her
eyes, but how cold the lights burn on the mainland.
Island in the city. Cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. Groundswell of humanity.
Storm-lashed on the high-rise --- their words are spray to the wind.
Blown like silent laughter. Falling on ears of tin
in my mainland blues.
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Иэн Андерсон