In tiny rhythms is this code
That breaks itself down as it goes
It speaks in simple easy prose
If you look and you listen, you will know

That I've turned to face the wind

But I can't be up there long at all
It's the air and I've tried, but I can't
(Oh, I can't)
'Cause it's bloody freezing in the dark
And burning up by dawn

I've turned to face the wind
But I might turn my back again

And it feels like Sunday afternoon
Downtown, the people have all long gone home
(Gone home)
The shops all shuttered on empty roads
But you just keep on keepin' on

I've turned to face the wind
And I might turn my back again