if you ever saw the place beneath the misty sky’s
that when the leaves do fall from heaven –
 still hold springs un shattered ties
the place of rock and scared old hands the place were the dark tails roam
take me the land of no god and together we shall declare it our own

if no man saw the scar you bear beneath your cotton cloths
if no man heard the whispered tails of the hardship that you own
would it paint across your cheeks the face of a different soul
would it change perhaps a thing would it change the man at all

for we are as we as we had to be
the blood of the dead and gone
and in our vain’s roam’s the gipsy blood –
of the solders of the sun