Exile On Princes Street

I saw a blue umbrella in princes street garden

Heading out west for the lothian road

An evening news stuffed deep in the pocket

Little did i know that he had a heavy load



I found i was walking grierson's dockyards

Where the only thing working was the foreign film crews

Making an impressive documentary

For the news, for the news

To the satellite



And all we're left with is the black, black oil

With a sense of pride and identity

The waters left behind we shouldn't forget

Laid low in the books of history



I saw the starlings wheel round georgian spires

They're gathering on patrol in the skies

In the distance burns the flame of grangemouth

And the dream is lost

Everything

What it could inspire

When we take, you know there is no distance

How we're talked about in the secret affairs

Taking our ride into the distance

To be what it was or could have been

What i should have said



And all we're left with is the black, black oil

With a strong sense of national pride

'till we take some more steps to unity

Take it back to me

Take away

(?)



And all we're left with is the black, black oil

With a strong sense of national pride

Calling the (ministry?) for identity

What it meant to me, what it said

What we could have had



I saw a blue umbrella in princes street garden

Heading out west for the lothian road

An evening news stuck deep in the pocket

Little did i know that he'd fall

Carrying a heavy load



And all we're left with is the black, black oil

With a strong sense of national pride

Calling a name in the sake of unity

What it meant to me you'll never know

You'll never know



I see myself forced in servant exile

Turning around at another's command

All i want to see is identity

What i could have been

What i did

Could have been



Internal exile

Internal exile


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