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All the homes on the globe are like the television in your eyes |
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A cross guarding your heart the living years a sacrifice |
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A shiver at the door in the night, clouds cross a black moonlight |
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Rushing on down to the sound of a turning world |
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There's a south by sou'westerly force eight coming in strong |
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Across the continental shelf from the cold gray Malin beyond |
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The need to keep control, the need to stand alone |
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At the edge of the world, at the edge of the world, at the edge of the world |
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The adrenalin infrastructure bringing on it's troubles some more |
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All the laws of the jungle stranded on your latest shore |
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But the waves hold the healer force, the years disappear like a ghost |
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Somewhere out of the sight of the night and the light of day |
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Now civilization groans and the news reel cries |
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Like a drowning man his life in front of his eyes |
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But the need to keep control, the need to bare the soul |
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At the edge of the world, at the edge of the world, at the edge of the world |
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And the man from St. Kilda went over the cliff on a winters day |
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At the edge of the world, at the edge of the world, at the edge of the world |
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At the edge of the world |
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At the edge of the world |
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At the edge of the world |
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... |
