I’ve never done anything but dream. This, and this alone, has been the meaning of my life. My only real concern has been my inner life. FERNANDO PESSOA

Friday, 17 August 2012

On The Road To Santiago



Carnival is what you dare
Flesh farewell the soul goes bare
Your face is just a mask you wear
But masks are hidden faces
All night long from bar to bar
The devil is a falling star
He knows who you really are
And he walks in hidden places

On the road on the road
On the road to Santiago
The wind can howl the waters roar
Night come down and your feet get sore
A priest goes dancing with a whore
You won't be who you were before
We'll walk that wild Atlantic shore
And the devil walks behind us
On the road to Santiago

This is what the devil sells
Broken vows and broken spells
Voices out of empty wells
Fire in December
Burning horses burning trees
Steps to climb up on your knees
Missing days and missing keys
And dreams you can't remember

Holy bandits band of hope
Hauling an unholy rope
Halfway up the slippery slope
That's where you will find us
We met the devil strolling round
On the midnight side of town
He said halfway up that's halfway down
There's no need to remind us
You don't need to remind us

Oysterband

2 comments:

Goat said...

Are you trying to drop us a hint here, SW? An imminent return to a favourite stomping ground, perhaps?

The Solitary Walker said...

No hint, Goat — just wishful thinking on my part!