Paul McMahon - Only the Gypsy Knows

There is a certain road
That only the gypsy knows
The big-hope bourgeois born in perfume
Can't even see over his own fence
The stationmaster whistles
Whip-crack cuts out across the tracks
That lie dreaming under the soft blind sky

There is a certain night
That only the gypsy knows
Soft warm green quilt-fields
Pillowed streams for sun-streaked sentinels
The texture of milk
That cool a thousand grass blade-evenings
Where Finn's swift horses seek water

Bridges towers castles streets
To kill and confine the kindred wild
That is dying of boredom like ice in the fire
Come quick and save the summer
And the death of the sea

Go through the evening
Tender flesh for the night's table
Apple for the tree for the new Adam
Rail-lines for the new train of summer
That runs crazy and sporadic
Beneath the eyes of the raven
That is gliding high where God hovers

Crazy and sporadic the children run
Along the shorelines of fading mornings
Rain falls from the blue sky
The blue sky of the children's smiling eyes
And no fence
Shall stand up against the dawn
The dawn of my mind
And the new live it's bringing

Sure the sea is for drowning in
On your first new morning
Fresh from the river
Below the blue crucifix-sky
Where the beach shall altar
And the sea shall turn to wine
Where you and I shall dine
Wrapped up warm
Within the silk skin of the sun
And feel it shudder

Written by:
PAUL MCMAHON

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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