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robin williamson - for mr. thomas lyrics

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from faded newsprint used to wrap a fish
inscrutably the muse selects your face
while i sit drinking famously in an irish bar
five thousand miles and thirty years away

with the usual ceremonial you were crowned one night
king of the field where doctors nail the cows
to make of the c-ck’s quill the rights of language
and the pr-cking heart a sword against the hours

let smirking scholars writhe in their favourite bondage
to hold you plaintiff to the charge of art
exhibit a: he falls on legendary lines
singing mother i want a bullet in the heart

the judge in me sucks eggs and jerks the sacred meat
for the boy in me still dreams in milk wood town
like two provincial b-st-rds playing the galleries
i hold your photo to a mirror upside down

as bacon wafts through hungry streets, your ghost pervades
just like an old ex-boxer aged twenty two
staged-up like falstaff or the wild welsh rimbaud
you’d laugh to see the monochromes they make of you

ah, mr. thomas let us ramble through the midnight fair
let us throw old bottles at the ferris wheel
let us paint library on the library let us raid the moonlight
let us steal away whatever we are supposed to steal

while the border guards check cards with their poker faces
never mind who’s winning, but the stakes are rare
if this jack-of-th-rns they lest us hold outbids the joker
let us sneak higher until the frost clings in our hair

let us watch while the days grow daily more mundane
that rough god go riding with its shears
hack wide the belly of the swollen mountains
and rip molten heroes forth from their furious tears

- robin williamson lyrics

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