It took fourteen hours to hitch from London to Portsmouth

I can picture you in your battered old coat

Blown by the trucks on the side of the road

Cursing the world just until one pulls over

The cab is warm, the driver is talking

And oh if he had his time over again

And you laugh with the man, but you think of another

Stealing away around each darkened corner

The ghost of your father always, always watching

And he waits for you when the black tide comes

And you feel the ghost of your father waiting 



An unbearable stillness hangs over these days

Humming with the promises broken

The bewildered watch from behind misted-up glass

As the ambitious and lucky get to feed on the carcass

When you feel so much in such a small space

Do you think you can keep on running

Like the papers that blow down your empty street

Outside in the dark when you cannot sleep

The ghost of your father always, always watching 

And he waits for you when the black tide comes

Do you feel the ghost of your father waiting?