When my neurons conspire To distract my thoughts
Away from divorce And competitive sports Back to the place Where
all rivers run to the sea Then I I shall be free Yes, I shall be free
On a seesaw In a strange land The jackdaw sat On the
Cardinals hand And the fiddlers played And the planners planned What
would be
On a back seat In a court room Sat Molly Malone with
Leopold Bloom 'Til the police came down With a new broom And swept
them clean
Like Geronimo Like Quinn the Eskimo Like the
Blackfoot And like the Arapaho Like Crazy Horse I'll be the last one
To lay down my gun
On the open road In a bar room A pick up
band plays a new tune When the coloured girl sings I feel my heart bloom
When a new song Hits the right note When a clearing sky Saves
an old boat When an insight Strikes the mote From mine own eye
Like Geronimo Like Quinn the Eskimo Like the Blackfoot And like
the Arapaho Like Crazy Horse I'll be the last one To lay down my gun
Just out of sight Beyond the next range I feel the heat Of
a flickering flame
On an African Plain By a thorn tree My old
friend Philippe Is waiting for me Que cera cera What ever will be
Will be When a friend dies And the tears rise From that deep
well That never runs dry And the women break their bracelets And the
men take their whisky outside
In a petit theatre On the Rue St
Denis The red velvet curtain Draws back to reveal The place where the
dark side Meets the angel and me The angel in me
When my synapses
pause In my quest for applause When my ego lets go Of my end of the
bone To focus instead On the love that is precious to me Then
I Shall be free I shall be free
