Tales of the Road

The caravan flipped over two, three times
Went spinning down the carriageway
Breaking up into splinters
Wheels turning around in the dust at the foot of the
hill
And all the old clothes, the pots and pans and the
photographs
The little things of those people's lives
They strewn across the road

We just want what we cannot have
We've driven so far, we can never get back
Sitting in the all night cafe in a curl of smoke
Telling tales of the road

By the glow of a flickering lighter
We went stumbling forward through the corridor
Up the broken staircase to the top of the trail of
shattered glass
Damp mattresses in the doorway, an old abandoned take-
away
No, nothing much to tell us, if and where you'd gone
By now you could be miles away

We all want what we cannot have
We've driven so far that we can't get back
Sitting in the all night cafe in a curl of smoke

Telling tales of the road

And everyone just keeps moving on, you turn around and
find they're all gone
The lights go out one by one, the prodigal son is not
coming home

Down at the ferrybridge junction
Beneath the cooling towers a man stood hitching a ride
And in the long grass at verge his son was laid asleep
He said - nothing's left to keep us in the city where
we come from
Take us far away from here - looking for work and the
wishing-well
This afternoon the sunlight spilled shadows across the
golden hills
They searched us at the border but they're not looking
for what we're hiding

They're not looking for what we're hiding

Yeah - we just want what we cannot have
We've driven so far that we can't get back
Sitting in the all night cafe in a curl of smoke
Telling tales of the road - tales of the road