I left you with those pine trees
Grown so tall they nearly block out the sun
That little wood was my idea
Thought it would keep us warm
When the winter came
Shelter from the gale
Hey Celia where's your home
Behind those pine trees
Little rise
End of the line
Can't grow nothing in that top field
Dry grass burned yellow by the sun
Waiting on rain in April
Some years it never comes
In the Adriatic
Signal lost in static
We waited to go on
I saw those pine trees
Little rise
Where I belong
In a no-man's land
Even sand burned everywhere but gone
Mmm
Left you with those pine trees
All thoughts of keeping warm so far behind
Cold winds in winter
Can turn like the tide
Blow the snow away
Won't ever see the day
Hey Celia where's your home
Behind those pine trees
Little rise
End of the line
