Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Steve Harley
Acoustic Guitar
Barry Wickens
Violin
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Steve Harley
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Steve Harley
Producer
Lyrics
Don't tell me I belong
I don't care where the keys are
Don't tell me that you long
To brush my hair where the bees are
You'll never see the darkest night
Or the colour of the Negro
The beauty's in the innocence below
Your adolescent charms
Free my soul, feed my ego
As you navigate the calm
Sand and storm, that goes where we go
The legacy of old wives' tales
Diminishes reality
Of minor parts played out on bended knee
No preachers, no religious key
No bleeding hearts, no refugee
No hope
Don't tell me of regrets
All in all no concession
No one can read our heads
No one can hear our confession
We celebrate in plastic shows
And the seventies are throwaway
In minor keys and drugs that steal the day
No preachers, no religious key
No bleeding hearts, no refugee
No hope
You think that you perform
But you perform like a stray dog
You shelter from the storm
By counting time like a meat hog
It's hard to see the darkest night
Or the colour of the Negro
I wanna see the light before I go
No preachers, no religious key
No bleeding hearts, no refugee
No hope
Writer(s): Steve Harley
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