Harold Land

Harold Land with a wave of his hand said goodbye to all that.
He paid his bills and stopped the milk, then put on his hat.
He tried to say his last farewells as quickly as he could,
Promising that he would return, but doubted that he would,
Doubted that he would, doubted.

Now he's marching soldiers in the rain as on to war they rode.
A long thin line of human mind, damnation as their load.
In the mud in coldness dark, he'd shiver out his fear,
What disappointing sights he'd seen instead of ones so dear,
Instead of ones so dear, so dear.

Going home, He's going home to the land he loved so well.
Going home, He fought for two years, never fell.
Going home, He's going home,
Going home. He's going home.

Harold Land with a wave of his hand stood sadly on the stage,
Clutching red ribbons from a badge, but he didn't look his age.
Only two years had passed between his leaving home and back;
He had lost his love and youth while
leading the attack, leading the attack.

In conversation it could be said,
Well after war your heart is dead.
Well it's not hard to understand,
There is no heart in Harold Land.

Harold Land

Harold Land con una ola de su mano se despidió de todo eso
Pagó sus cuentas y detuvo la leche, y luego se puso el sombrero
Trató de despedirse lo más rápido que pudo
Prometiendo que regresaría, pero dudaba de que lo hará
Dudo que lo hiciera, dudaba

Ahora está marchando soldados bajo la lluvia mientras iban a la guerra
Una larga y delgada línea de mente humana, la condenación como su carga
En el barro en la oscuridad fría, temblaba su miedo
Qué vistas decepcionantes había visto en lugar de unas tan queridas
En lugar de unos tan queridos, tan queridos

Se va a casa, se va a casa a la tierra que amaba tan bien
Regresando a casa, Luchó durante dos años, nunca cayó
Se va a casa, se va a casa
Me voy a casa. Se va a casa

Harold Land con una ola de su mano se paró tristemente en el escenario
Agarrando cintas rojas de una placa, pero no parecía su edad
Sólo habían transcurrido dos años entre su salida de casa y su regreso
Había perdido su amor y juventud mientras
liderando el ataque, liderando el ataque

En la conversación se podría decir
Después de la guerra tu corazón está muerto
Bueno, no es difícil de entender
No hay corazón en Harold Land

Composição: Bill Bruford / Chris Squire / Jon Anderson