Philby Medium

by Rory Gallagher

Mode: Intermediate select mode

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

Well it sure is dark in this clockwork city,
Contact's never gonna show,
I've got a code which can't be broken,
My eyes never seem to close,
Well, I'm standing here in the silent city,
Shadows falling down,
I'm disconnected but I don't need 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 must move quickly,
There's a knock the door,
in and I'm close to danger,
My cover can't be blown,
It's strange and it's getting crazy,
me, 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 Morning comes, be moving on.
All night my mind's been burning,
me feel such a long, way from home,

Now ain't it strange 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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