Never in the field of human affection
Had so much been given for so few attention
Never in the field of human affection
Had so much been given for so few attention
Winston Boy
Oh! There he is,
Packing, quietly,
You could mistake a clock ticking
For a cricket cricketing when around him.

But I swear!
Nobody knows what’s on this boy's mind,
Nobody sees what he’s been picturing.

“We all make a living by what we get,
But we make life by what we give.
In some special circumstances,
This special circumstance,
Winston Boy will have to earn a living
Before he earns enough living to give”

“Where is your family?
Where are your loved ones?” someone uttered,
Whilst he went on crossing the channel
“Well they say no man can be a prophet
In his own country and so I left and here I am
Come on embrace me!
I am your brother!”
Now whilst he kept on talking,
In his left pocket laid the prose of the magnificent Orwell,
His right hand embraced a battered
Guitar borrowed,
“Borrowed from me!”
Come to think about it, I think a few years ago
I heard him talk about how God blessed an eagle with 54 stars.
And so maybe he’s gone, he’s gone wondering
Around looking for his kind of star
But even stars
If we think about it, even beautiful stars
They tend to shoot through the night
And you will never find them again!
Never and never and never again!
And so don’t you judge Winston Boy,
Don’t you ever judge Winston boy

Cause one day this boy might be the man,
Though clearly nobody knows when or how
One day this boy will stand in front of a pulpit
As the world gives him but a minute
And there he will tell the world
Where he’s been and how
Underground to upper ground in the depths of
I will surely survive
He shares his story with a cup of tea streaming from his eyes
One day this boy will be fine
One day this boy will be fine
So you better watch out now that day might be today!