Philby Medium

by Rory Gallagher

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

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

Now ain't it funny I feel like Philby,
A on a foreign shore,
I've got my plans and I must move quickly,
There's a knock the door,
in and I'm close to danger,
My cover can't be blown,
It's getting and it's 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 comes, be moving on.
All night long my mind's been burning,
Makes me feel a long, long way from home,

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

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