We were the lucky few.

A luck we soon outgrew,

And now instead we drift again.

How I miss Sarajevo.



Oh we were lost at sea,

A pause for thought, the we

Slip beneath the foam and fall

Down to the seabed.



Good times die young,

For the Faraway Kids on the run.

Nowhere to hide.

The Faraway Kids.

The Faraway Kids.



At night, my soul sets sail

In minute detail.

When I wake, I cry. For I

I have lost Sarajevo.



Oh, the charges lacked all proof,

And failed to light the fuse

For the Little Brutes,

But I forsook Sarajevo.



Good times die young,

For the Faraway Kids on the run.

Nowhere to hide.



I can't outrun

The terrible things I have done.

I can't outrun

The Faraway Kids.

The Faraway Kids.