(Kirsty MacCollPete Glenister)



All it took was the time it takes

To smoke a cigarette or jam on the brakes

I nearly had it in my hands and now it's gone

Am I complaining 'bout by luck again?

Well it seems to me I was the one

Stood moaning in the morning sun

And now it doesn't matter much wherever I may roam

I keep feeling, feeling my way home



Now you see me, now you don't

You say you will but I know you won't

You nearly had me in your hands but now I'm gone

But not complaining 'bout my life again

No siree, and what I've got belongs to me entirely

I look left and I look right and I cross this road alone

'Cos I'm feeling my way

I may go up, I may go down but wherever I may roam

I keep feeling my way home



Shall I explain away my life again?

Well it seems to me it's too far gone

To wonder where it all went wrong

I get up and I get down but I get there on my own

And I'm feeling my way

I look left and I look right and I cross this road alone

'Cos I'm feeling my way home