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Tobermory (2000)

“Close”

 

In the full moon by a fire
Naked with a spear
Body painted feral chanting
As the dawn draws near.

Somebody saw him sitting
Like a buzzard in the rain
Holed up in a canyon
With a dead-man’s hat and cane.

And you want to buy a ticket
But you won’t say where you’re bound
‘Til you step up to the wicket
And you lay your money down.

And every time
That I get close
I get so strung out for a dose
Of your love.

In the choppers at the checkpoints
Your feet are getting sore
Searching through the symbols
In a grid from door to door.

Frightened by the sirens
That keep stalking through the day
A bit part in your fantasy
Like smoke that blows away.

And it could be just some non-stop purring
shining hell-bound train
But you were hoping for the Mayflower.

And every time
That I get close
I get so strung out for a dose
Of your love.

© Gerry Wall | Canada | www.gerrywall.com