The fishing boats go out across the evening water
Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border
The wind whips up the waves so loud
The ghost moon sails among the clouds
Turns the rifles into silver on the borderOn my wall the colours of the maps are running
From Africa the winds they talk of changes coming
The torches flare up in the night
The hand that sets the farms alight
Has spread the word to those who're waiting on the borderIn the village where I grew up
Nothing seems the same
Still you never see the change from day to day
And no-one notices the customs slip awayLate last night the rain was knocking at my window
I moved across the darkened room and in the lampglow
I thought I saw down in the street
The spirit of the century
Telling us that we're all standing on the borderIn the islands where I grew up
Nothing seems the same
It's just the patterns that remain
An empty shell
But there's a strangeness in the air you feel too wellThe fishing boats go out across the evening water
Smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border
The wind whips up the waves so loud
The ghost moon sails among the clouds
Turns the rifles into silver on the borderOn the border
On the border
On the border
Songwriters
LEADON, BERNIE / FREY, GLENN LEWIS / HENLEY, DONPublished by
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Don Henly/Glenn Frey/Eagles Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.