Flickering flame

 Not the torturer will scare me

 Nor the body's final fall

 Nor the barrels of death's rifles

 Nor the shadows on the wall

 Nor the night when to the ground

 The last dim star of pain, is held

 But the blind indifference

 Of a merciless unfeeling world





 Lying in the burnt out shell

 Of some Albanian farm

 An old Babushka

 Holds a crying baby in her arms

 A soldier from the other side

 A man of heart and pride

 Breaks ranks, lays down his rifle

 And kneels by her side





 He binds her wounds

 He gives her food

 And calms the crying child

 She gives him absolution then

 Across the great divide

 He picks his way back through the broken

 China of her life

 And there at the kerb

 The Samaritan Serb turns..

 Turns and waves.. Goodbye





 And each small candle

 Each small candle

 Lights a corner of the dark...

 Lights a corner of the dark

 Each small candle

 Each small candle

 Lights a corner of the dark

 Lights a corner of the dark





 Each small candle lights a corner of the dark

 When the wheel of pain stops turning

 And the branding iron stops burning

 When the children can be children

 When the desperadoes weaken

 When the sea rolls into greet them

 When the natural law of science

 Greets the humble and the mighty

 And the billion candles burning

 Lights the dark side of every human mind





 And each small candle

 Lights a corner of the dark...

 When my neurones conspire to distract 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

 ***repeat above line***







 On a seesaw in a strange land

 The jackdaw sat on the cardinals hand

 And the fiddlers played

 And the planners plan what would be





 On a back seat in a court room

 sat Molly Malone and Leopold Bloom

 Until the police came down with a new broom

 And swept them clean

 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 pick up band plays a new tune

 When the coloured girls sing

 I feel my heart boom





 When a new song hits the right note

 When a clearing in the sky saves an old boat

 When an insight strikes the mote (mote is a spec of dust)

 From my own eye





 Like Geronimo

 Like Quinn the Eskimo

 Like Blackfoot

 And like the Arapaho

 Like Crazy Horse

 I'll be the last one to lay down my gun???





 They're the same beyond the next plain

 I'll feel the heat of the flickering flame





 On an African Plain by a thorn tree

 My old friend Phillipe is waiting for me

 (Phillipe Constantin a very close friend of Roger's

 passed away very recently he was French but spent

 a lot of time in Africa)





 Que se passe Que se passe

 What ever 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 pied 'a' terre (love nest, where French men take their mistresses, a

second home in the

 city)

 on the rue St Denis (famous street in France where prostitutes operate)

 The red velvet curtain pulls back to reveal

 The place where the dark side meets the angel in me???..





 the angel in me





 When my synapses pause in their quest for applause

 When my ego lets go of its end of the bone

 To focus instead on a love that is precious to me

 Then I?????..I shall be free

 Ooooh, the lonely boys

 In their towers of faith

 Ooooh, the lonely boys

 Locked in their towers of faith





 The prophet reclined

 In the Golan Heights





 Ohhh, the lonely boys





 He said "This land is my land"

 To the Shiites





 Ooooh, the lonely boys





 And Jehovah looked up from the sea of Galilee beneath

 He said "I see you, you thief!

 This land is my land

 And this sand is my sand

 And this band is my band"





 Oh the lonely boys

 Lookin' over their shoulder

 Checkin out every boulder in the park

 Where the gates are closed from hate

 After dark





 And the Pope rolled up in his armoured van

 He fell on his knees and kissed the land

 He said something t

 hat I did not understand

 It was in polish

 Then up stepped an aide, he said "I will translate

 Here is what His Holiness said:

 'I am the Chief Jesuit.

 This land is Jesus' land.

 And that is all

 All that there is to it.'"





 And in New York City

 The business man in his mohair suit

 In the world trade centre

 Puffs on his cheroot

 And he said

 "Well I don't care who owns the desert sands,

 My brief

 Is with the hydrocarbons underneath"





 And the sea of battle rages around the ancient tombs

 And mother nature licks her wounds

 And the lonely boys locked in their towers of faith

 Who are nervous in the park when the gates are closed after dark





 Ooooh, the lonely boys

 In their towers of faith

 Ooooh, the lonely boys

 Locked in their towers of faith

 Come hold me now

 I am not gone

 I would not leave you here alone

 In this dead calm beneath the waves

 I can still hear those lost boys calling





 You could not speak

 You were afraid

 To take the risk of being left again

 And so you tipped your hat and waved and then

 You turned back up the gangway of that steel tomb again





 And in that street in July

 When I hear those seabirds cry

 I hold the child

 The child in the man

 The clild that we leave behind





 And in my street in July

 When she hears those seabirds cry

 She holds the child

 The child in the man

 The child that we leave behind





 The spotlight fades

 The boys disband

 The files notes lie mute upon the sand

 And in the silence of the grave

 I can still hear those lost boys calling





 We left them there

 When they were young

 The men were gone until the west was gone

 And now there's nothing left but time to kill

 You never took us fishin' dad and now you never will





 And in my street in July

 When she hears the seabirds cry

 She holds the child

 The child in the man



 The child that we leave behind