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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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