Been some places in my time. Seen some faces down the line. Nothing like you, ain't nothing like you. Nothing like you, ain't nothing like you. . North wind blowing cracks my lips.
So I find myself among. The brave Southseastern hills. Running like a madman on the moor. Let the sweet Atlantic rain. Wash away my youth. The Men-An-Tol shone strangely in the storm.