Philby Medium

by Rory Gallagher

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

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

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

Now ain't it strange I feel Philby,
There's a stranger in my
I'm lost in transit in a city
I can't come in from the

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