Set Your Compass - Steve Hackett

Underneath a sailing moon

Lemon lime ginger soft glow

Scale the woodland around the dale

Rising falling through hedgerows

With her train the queen of night

(Her pale window)

(Calming your fear)

(With the Earth)

Slowly turning the tide (in the lowland)

From the long arms of the sea

Set your compass by your dream (falling)

Grazing sheep have lost their way

Fifty fathoms below the bay

Windward of the sunken rock (blowing)

Faces set like gravestones (staring down)

Oarsmen pull to cleave the brine

Neath the blackcliffs their cross-bones

Under the waves and put to right

Toy armies too rusty to fight (in the lowland)

Cling to the wheel how deeply you breathe

Set your compass by your dream (falling)

Grazing sheep have lost their way

Fifty fathoms below the bay