Hope everybody's ringing on their own
bell, this fine morning.
Hope everyone's connected to that long
Old man, he's a mountain.
Old man, he's an island.
Old man, he's a-walking says
``I'm going to call, call all my
Hope everybody's dancing to their own drum
this fine morning ---
the beat of distant Africa or a Polish
Old man, he's calling for his
Calling for his whisky.
Calling for his sons and daughters,
calling all his children round.
Sharp ears are tuned in to the drones and
Mist blowing round some headland, somewhere
in your memory.
Everyone is from somewhere ---
even if you've never been there.
So take a minute to remember the part
that might be the old man calling
How many wars you're fighting out there,
this winter's morning?
Maybe it's always time for another
Old man he's asleep now.
Got appointments to keep now.
Dreaming of his sons and daughters, and
proving that the blood is strong.