Coming Home

South-east Asian telephone lines aren't what they might be
I can barely hear your voice... I hope you can hear me...
It's been a lifetime here in Jakarta but its only been a week
There are Generals in their limousines and children on the street

There are ships in the harbour and the planes roll in
Ice in the beer and American gin
I've picked up my ticket and I'm coming home...
There are ships in the harbour and the planes roll in
Ice in the beer and American gin
I've picked up my ticket and I'm coming home...
I'm coming home...

It's and hard rain here in Jakarta and it kills the afternoon
So it's tea on the verandah, telling lies and swapping tunes
Is history a measure of wasted time, is it only a matter of chance?
Watch the shadows not the puppets, watch the dancers not the dance...
There's something here that I can't quite touch
Perhaps it's the heat and I'm thinking too much
Here I am coming home

There are ships in the harbour and the planes roll in
Ice in the beer and American gin
I've picked up my ticket and I'm coming home...
I'm coming home...

And the dark guns and glasses of the military
The drains are open and the rats run free...
My passport tells me I'm coming home...

There are ships in the harbour and the planes roll in
Ice in the beer and American gin
I've picked up my ticket and I'm coming home...
I'm coming home...
Coming home
It's been a lifetime here
Coming home