North was somewhere years ago and cold.
Ice locked the peoples hearts and made them old.
South was birth to pleasant lands but dry.
I walked the waters' depths and played my mind.
East was dawn, coming alive in the golden sun.
The winds came gently, several heads became one.
In the summertime the august people sneered.
We were at peace, and we cheered.
We walked along, sometimes hand in hand.
Between the thin lines marking sea and sand.
Smiling very peacefully; we began to notice that we could be free.
And we moved together... To the west.
West is where all days will someday end.
Where the colours turn from grey to gold.
And you can be with the friends.
And light flakes the golden clouds above all.
West is Mike and Susie; West is where I love.
There we shall the final days of our lives.
The the same old stories; yeah well at least we tried.
Into the west, smiles on our faces, we'll go.
Yes and our apologies to those who'll never really know the way.
We're refugees, walking away from the life that we've known and loved.
Nothing to do or say, nowhere to stay. Now we are alone
We're refugees, carrying all we own in brown bags, tied up with strings.
Nothing to think; it doesn't mean a thing.
But we'll be happy on our own.
West is Mike and Susie,
West is Mike and Susie;
West is where I love,
West is refugees' home.