They found us in the courtyard at our table in the shade. We toasted our last few moments and then the end came. They took us back to the airstrip in that beaten up old car. And we rattled across the African scrubland in silence. Our hands locked together with cold steel cuffs. Sometimes I wish it was still that way. Now a whole world has died since then so many faithless days. I was born alone and lucky and I'm just used to it that way. My dice still roll in sixes and yours still turn up ones. And I have taken my good fortune and I've run and run. But I always swore I'd come back for you. Is it too late now to come back for you ?. Now beneath this lonely junction on the northbound M6. We spray our words of signature on the concrete bridge. And between the words of wisdom and the slogans of despair. Someone's just gone and written 'I'm sorry' there. Well I always swore I'd come back for you. Is it too late now to come back for you?.