Looking from my window,
To the streets below,
The red bricks and the gardens,
And you
On the sidewalks,
Strangers walk in perfect rows,
Half past eight,
It's time for work again
I've been longing for,
Where the wind blows,
Far away from these grey streets,
To the high coast
All through the day the people talk and I reply,
But all my thoughts are somewhere far away,
They’re drifting like a river when the tide runs high,
Float like clouds on a windy day
I've been dreaming for,
Where the wind blows,
Far away from these grey streets,
To the high coast
I've been longing for,
Where the wind blows,
Far away from these grey streets,
To the high coast

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