Peter Sinfield

Who'll give me comfort when the moon rides in the pines Who'll be my pillow when the bitter north wind whines Who'll lie beside me as the evening fire declines Will it be you, will you stay by me? Who'll give me shelter from the wolves of discontent

I feel like a rusty key I don't fit any door You stole my cloudy castles but you didn't say what for You said I didn't have the eyes to paint out in the street Without a standard martyr's hat and neon sloganned feet To eat, it seems, I needed you for