Lyrics to The Flickering Flame
When my neurons conspire
to direct 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
I shall be free
On a seesaw
In a strange land
The jackdaw sat
On the carindals hand
And the fiddlers played
And the planners planned
What would be
On a backseat
In a courtroom
Molly Malone sat with
Leopold bloom
'Till the police came down
With a new broom
And swept them clean
(chorus)
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
And when the bell sounds for that final round
I'll be there
On the open road
In a bar room
A pickup band plays a new tune
When the coloured girl sings
I feel my heart boom
When a new song
Strikes the right note
When a clearing sky
Saves an old boat
When an insight
Strikes the mote
From mine own eye
(chorus)
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 ce passe se passe
Whatever 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 thier 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
to direct 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
I shall be free
On a seesaw
In a strange land
The jackdaw sat
On the carindals hand
And the fiddlers played
And the planners planned
What would be
On a backseat
In a courtroom
Molly Malone sat with
Leopold bloom
'Till the police came down
With a new broom
And swept them clean
(chorus)
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
And when the bell sounds for that final round
I'll be there
On the open road
In a bar room
A pickup band plays a new tune
When the coloured girl sings
I feel my heart boom
When a new song
Strikes the right note
When a clearing sky
Saves an old boat
When an insight
Strikes the mote
From mine own eye
(chorus)
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 ce passe se passe
Whatever 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 thier 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
Songwriters: WATERS, ROGER
Publisher: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
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Publisher: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Powered by LyricFind