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The Golden Age Of Steam
par
Steve Hackett
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12 years old in Amsterdam in 1939 A blue-eyed boy my clean complexion always got me by A boy with real potential sold secrets by the score Where refugees were hiding I'd just point out the doors In the golden age of steam I learned those German songs I had to stay alive there was no right or wrong In the golden age of steam The fatherland was rising the world would hear the roar Both sides fed and trusted me in 1944 Trains ran on time those days oiling the machine Smoke rose up like serpents I was barely seventeen In the golden age of steam It's over now but not somehow I was a hero then to many men Switzerland was a short ride for an eager blond haired boy With a silver smile and loaded with jewellery to enjoy Maybe one day they'll come for me they'll take me from my bed A soldier of fortune that's what my passport read In the golden age of steam
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