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A G The ghost moon sails among the clouds F#m E F#m And turns the rifles into silver on the border F#m On my wall the colours of the maps are running D From Africa the winds they talk of changes coming Bm The torches flair up in the night A G The hand that sets the farms alight F#m E F#m Has spread the word to those who're waiting on the border A In the vllage where I grew up Em Nothing seems the same D A But still you never see the change from day to day D C# C# B A G#m F#m E F#m And no one notices the customs slip away F#m Late last night the rain was knocking on my window D I moved across the darkened room and in the lampglow Bm I thought I saw down in the street A G The spirit of the century F#m E F#m Telling us that we're all standing on the border A In the islands where I grew up Em Nothing seems the same D A It's just the patterns that remain an empty shell D C# But there's a strangeness in the air you feel too well C# B A G#m F#m E F#m REPEAT 1st VERSE \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_\_\_ \_ \_ Glen Macon \_ \_\_ \_\_ any-net: macon@cbmvax.commodore.com \_ \_ \_\_ \_ Standard disclaimer... \_ \_\_\_ \_ \_ \_ Commodore doesn't endorse what I say, I do \_ \_ \_ \_ Who wants to know... \_ \_ \_ \_ \_\_\_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ \_ All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain.