i want to chase the gypsy train
out across the honey plains
into purple mountains, crystal lakes
heading west for westwards sake

i want to climb a giant red
and make of leaves and dreams my bed
the wind is good, sap sticks that bled
and the trees talk to me in my head

if i am tea then you can be my hot
bubble me over and out of the pot
take hot and tea and you’ll get steam
whistle for me right through your teeth
but if i am time you can be my clock
sing me a song with a tic and a toc
the tick for the stick that is on my wrist
and a talk for the time in between this kiss
but if you are smoke and i am wine
well my last smoke broke and i bruised the vine
but if broke is the yolk of modern times
then we can rub together our last two dimes
and a flower the size of a hemisphere
petal for a smile and you’re blue as clear
i go hazel, you go gray
we don’t have to grow old anyway
but if i get old and you get sweet
the oldest age couldn’t slow my feet
so i’ll walk on water to a far away
what’s far away now can be close to you some day

you see that i can’t help but chase the sun
i get hot at the thought of waking up before the day’s begun
but if you prefer a more silver moon
well if i have to walk i’ll see you there soon

cause the gypsy train never stopped for me
a caravan of magic and hair and seeds
they threw their magic seeds at me
a cap for the hat that i wore all night
a stem for the reach that would touch the light
but all i think about inspite
of the wars of the world and the hunger strife
is the gypsy who got left behind
and she should get off the train at my stop next time

Up Next: 119 Species of Birds