The Last Refugee - Live in Amsterdam, June, 2018

And it's also the end of broadcasting for
Thursday, the end of broadcasting for 1970
Seven to severe hail, nine, decreasing six in Humber later
Rain then showers, moderate to poor becoming good

Southwesterly, six to gale eight, occasionally, severe gale nine
At the third stroke, it will be 11:24 and 50 seconds
At the third stroke, it will be 11:25, precisely
This is the British Broadcasting Corporation
At the third stroke it will be 8:57, precisely

Otherwise variable rainfall, mainly northerly in the southeast
A Happy New Year to you all
At the third stroke, it will be 11:25, precisely
Goodnight, everyone

Lie with me now
Under lemon tree skies
Show me the shy, slow smile you keep hidden
By warm brown eyes

Catch the sweet hover of lips just barely apart
And wonder at love's sweet ache
And the wild beat of my heart
Oh, rhapsody tearing me apart

And I dreamed I was saying goodbye to my child
She was taking a last look at the sea
Wading through dreams, up to our knees
In warm ocean swells
While bathing belles, soft beneath

Hard bitten shells punch their iPhones
Erasing the numbers of redundant lovers
And search the horizon
And you'll find my child
Down by the shore
Digging around for a chain or a bone
Searching the sand for a relic washed up by the sea

(The sea, the sea...)
The last refugee