Philby Medium

by Rory Gallagher

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Now ain't it strange that I feel like Philby,
There's a stranger in my soul,
I'm lost in transit in a city,
I can't in from the cold,
I'm deep in action on a secret mission,
Contact's broken down,
by, I'm suspicion,
There's a voice on the telephone
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Well it is dark in this clockwork city,
Contact's gonna show,
I've got a code which can't be broken,
My eyes seem to close,
Well, I'm standing here in the city,
Shadows falling down,
I'm but I don't need pity,
The night's burn on slow.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Now ain't it funny that I feel like Philby,
A on a foreign shore,
I've got my and I must move quickly,
There's a upon the door,
Still in and I'm to danger,
My cover can't be blown,
It's strange and it's getting crazy,
Tell me, what is going on?
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Four o'clock and nothing's moving,
Six o'clock and the daylight's stirring,
A Morning comes, be moving on.
All night long my mind's burning,
Makes me feel a long, long way from home,

Now ain't it strange that I feel like Philby,
There's a stranger in my soul
I'm lost in transit in a lonesome city
I can't come in from the cold

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