Exile On Princes Street by Marillion
I saw a blue umbrella in princes street garden
Heading out west for the lothian road
An evening news stuffed deep in the pocket
Little did I know that he had a heavy load
I found I was walking grierson's dockyards
Where the only thing working was the foreign film crews
Making an impressive documentary
For the news, for the news
To the satellite
And all we're left with is the black, black oil
With a sense of pride and identity
The waters left behind we shouldn't forget
Laid low in the books of history
I saw the starlings wheel round georgian spires
They're gathering on patrol in the skies
In the distance burns the flame of grangemouth
And the dream is lost
Everything
What it could inspire
When we take, you know there is no distance
How we're talked about in the secret affairs
Taking our ride into the distance
To be what it was or could have been
What I should have said
And all we're left with is the black, black oil
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