27 January 2013
Squalor and newspaper tumbleweed, City lights shining like daemons' eyes, Cold iron, concrete and broken glass, Someone's idea of paradise.
Down by the nightclubs in alleyways, With the cigarette smokers and taxi cars, I'm walking the path of a gypsy boy, Chasing the trail of the midnight stars.
Maybe some day you will follow me, Maybe some day you will find, You're searching for something so far away, Your world leaves you drifting behind.
So don't try to tell me otherwise, There's nothing more to hide, I'm chasing my dreams through purgatory, With the ghost of Woody Guthrie by my side.
Ballad Of A Gypsy Boy • Opuss № I