you stare into the stars... looking for a sign...
in Jupiter and Mars... (Venus, throw my life a line!...)...
I've been a wanderer, I've learned some from what I've seen...
still, I'll pay the fortune teller... to tell me what it means.
...
I've traced the gypsy myth; tracked ghost riders in the sky...
bent my perception with; potions I just had to try...
I've paid the piper; and begged all to call the tune...
I've sung my secret songs... to none but the moon.
...
now all I ask of you that you hear me out...
and what I say is true... you can accept it without doubt
it's a lucky man tempts fate, and returns with his soul intact...
dealing in abstract concepts... don't ever change the facts.
...
so part this mystic veil, and let this traveler through...
I'm following a trail... without one blessed clue...
my odyssey is mapped by memories of the muse...
she fades in shades of grey... coloured by the blues
...
you stare into the stars... looking for a sign... (repeat first verse)...
...well... this also an old song... from a full moon ramble on one of those rare days when songs came in threes... 'Gypsy Myth' being a play on 'gypsy moth'. I suppose; but also a thought on the lure of the ramblin' life... I certainly had my taste of that. And like many a Catholic boy (raised) I suspect we were fodder for the psychedelic experience(s). To put something on the tongue that packed a real wallop... ( "...to see the universe in a grain of sand, a lifetime in the blink of an eye..." (to quote a lyric as yet unfinished...)... myth and mystery... love to all, d.