Our fathers out of India come
And stopped where they found water
And the gadgie boys with their greedy eyes coveted our daughters
Coveted our daughters.
And the moon shone into the seas
And crossed our path with silver
There was music that night in the dark campsite
And the music made you shiver
To be the gypsy.
Across the deserts our fathers come
With dancing boy, and bear, and drum
And the gadgie boys with their greedy eyes coveted our freedom
Coveted our freedom.
And we fit in your landscape
As the sixth to the five senses
But the pastures close as the cowboy knows
And the world’s cut up by fences
To catch the gypsy.
And the colours fade on the caravans
And old roads bend in change
And the vigilantes move us on but still we do remain
And while we do remain.
Your ways only keep us on the paths we have chosen.
But when it’s cold at night
And the fire won’t light
And the children’s hands are frozen
It’s hard to be the gypsy.
Oh, the fire that burns, the cage, the key
The dancer of delight
The flame that burns behind your eyes yet flickers in your sight
Flickers in your sight.
And you may die of cold because
The ways that you have chosen
Have warmed your hands but not your heart
And left your poor soul frozen
Let the gypsy dance.
Now if the gypsy cannot dance
In your heart you may discover
That the flame needs air to burn
And soon it'll be all over.
If the gypsy cannot dance
In your heart you may discover
That the flame needs air to burn
And soon it'll be all over.
And stopped where they found water
And the gadgie boys with their greedy eyes coveted our daughters
Coveted our daughters.
And the moon shone into the seas
And crossed our path with silver
There was music that night in the dark campsite
And the music made you shiver
To be the gypsy.
Across the deserts our fathers come
With dancing boy, and bear, and drum
And the gadgie boys with their greedy eyes coveted our freedom
Coveted our freedom.
And we fit in your landscape
As the sixth to the five senses
But the pastures close as the cowboy knows
And the world’s cut up by fences
To catch the gypsy.
And the colours fade on the caravans
And old roads bend in change
And the vigilantes move us on but still we do remain
And while we do remain.
Your ways only keep us on the paths we have chosen.
But when it’s cold at night
And the fire won’t light
And the children’s hands are frozen
It’s hard to be the gypsy.
Oh, the fire that burns, the cage, the key
The dancer of delight
The flame that burns behind your eyes yet flickers in your sight
Flickers in your sight.
And you may die of cold because
The ways that you have chosen
Have warmed your hands but not your heart
And left your poor soul frozen
Let the gypsy dance.
Now if the gypsy cannot dance
In your heart you may discover
That the flame needs air to burn
And soon it'll be all over.
If the gypsy cannot dance
In your heart you may discover
That the flame needs air to burn
And soon it'll be all over.
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2017/1/12 - 08:48
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Parole e musica di
La canzone che chiude l’album intitolato “Not Till Tomorrow”