Philby Medium

by Rory Gallagher

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

it sure is dark in this city,
Contact's never gonna show,
I've got a code can't be broken,
My eyes never to close,
Well, I'm standing in the silent city,
Shadows falling down,
I'm but I don't need pity,
The night's gonna burn on slow.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Now ain't it funny that I feel like Philby,
A stranger on a foreign shore,
I've got my plans and I move quickly,
There's a knock upon the door,
Still in transit and I'm close to danger,
My can't be blown,
It's getting strange and it's getting crazy,
me, what is 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, must be on.
All my mind's burning,
me such a 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 in from the cold

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