I wish I was a fisherman
tumbling on the sea
far away from dry land
and its bitter memories
casting out my sweet line
with abandonment and love
no ceiling bearing down on me
save the starry sky above
with light in my head
and you in my arms
I wish I was the brakeman
on a hurtling fevered train
crashing a-headlong on into the heartland
like a cannon in the rain
with the beating of the sweepers
and the burning of the coal
counting the towns flashing by
and the night that's full of soul
with light in my head
and you in my arms
tomorrow I will be loosened
from the bonds that hold me fast
with the chains all hung around me
will fall away at last
and on that fine and fateful day
I will take thee in my hand
I will ride on the train
I will be the fisherman
with light in my head
you in my arms
'Vagabond of the Western World
|