When they came from the road I had no strength to carry on And the one's that had come with me Were vansihed and gone Run away, run away High on desert plains Four and twenty days out on the trail I slipped out of the headlights And I kept out of sight And I slept in the dunes And I walked through the night I was picked up by a 4 and then a flatbed truck It was a very welcome stroke of luck I went to sleep inside a warehouse There were many more like me Laying low and working any odd job Saving money for the trip across the sea There's a place where the dunes block The view from the road And where no prying eye see the ferryman load His ancient motor boad His brimming cargo hold We packed together there young and old There were no lights from the coastline When the old boat sprang a leak People clinging to the parapets As I jumped into the blackness of the sea When they pulled us from the ocean There was not a sound but for a woman crying We were sat out on the freezing deck Where some of were rolling up and dying Rome, home to the undying Where the warm wind weeps See the young man in the station As he rocks himself to sleep