well I found myself eating at an immigrants table
and there were strange voices coming from a black & white TV
there was steam from the kitchen and it misted up the mirror
and when I wiped on my reflection for the first time I saw me
yes I found myself eating at an immigrants table
there were smiles that would cut through any Sunday gloom
there were other children playing in the front room & on the staircase
but I had to watch the steam as it swirled around the room
it seemed to hang in the air
rise up to the sky
and it circles in s***e
after years have gone by
and it drops to the ground
and runs to the sea
the one in the photograph behind me
and it makes a wave
crashes in to the rocks and sand
and wets the soap that takes away the day
from both your face and hands
and I drank it from a glass
and it's all inside me again
and I found myself eating at an Immigrants table
and there were brave men talking about the way things used to be
and everything was clean on those special Sundays
deep voices made me feel safe and that's the way it's meant to be
and that's the way it's meant to be and there is no way you can change it
you can try with all your might but you'll never rearrange it
who we are, where we're from
where we're going, we go there alone
and we all know joy and we all know fear
and we all know the bittersweet taste of tears
that dry on your face
and rise to the sky
and circle in s***e
after years have gone by
and they drop to the ground
and run to the sea
the one in the photograph behind me
and it makes a wave
crashes in to the rocks and sand
and wets the soap that takes away the day
from both your face and hands
and I drank it from a glass
and it's all inside me again
seems to hang in the air
and rise to the sky
and circles in s***e
after years have gone by
and it drops to the ground
and it runs to the sea
the one in the photograph behind me
and it makes a wave
crashes in to the rocks and sand
and wets the soap that takes away the day
from both your face and hands
and I drank it from a glass
and it's all inside me again
and there were strange voices coming from a black & white TV
there was steam from the kitchen and it misted up the mirror
and when I wiped on my reflection for the first time I saw me
yes I found myself eating at an immigrants table
there were smiles that would cut through any Sunday gloom
there were other children playing in the front room & on the staircase
but I had to watch the steam as it swirled around the room
it seemed to hang in the air
rise up to the sky
and it circles in s***e
after years have gone by
and it drops to the ground
and runs to the sea
the one in the photograph behind me
and it makes a wave
crashes in to the rocks and sand
and wets the soap that takes away the day
from both your face and hands
and I drank it from a glass
and it's all inside me again
and I found myself eating at an Immigrants table
and there were brave men talking about the way things used to be
and everything was clean on those special Sundays
deep voices made me feel safe and that's the way it's meant to be
and that's the way it's meant to be and there is no way you can change it
you can try with all your might but you'll never rearrange it
who we are, where we're from
where we're going, we go there alone
and we all know joy and we all know fear
and we all know the bittersweet taste of tears
that dry on your face
and rise to the sky
and circle in s***e
after years have gone by
and they drop to the ground
and run to the sea
the one in the photograph behind me
and it makes a wave
crashes in to the rocks and sand
and wets the soap that takes away the day
from both your face and hands
and I drank it from a glass
and it's all inside me again
seems to hang in the air
and rise to the sky
and circles in s***e
after years have gone by
and it drops to the ground
and it runs to the sea
the one in the photograph behind me
and it makes a wave
crashes in to the rocks and sand
and wets the soap that takes away the day
from both your face and hands
and I drank it from a glass
and it's all inside me again