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van morrison – boffyflow and spike lyrics

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so let us follow boffyflow and spike down through the
days of the leaves. boffy is covered with leaves
completely the buckijit and spike is in hysterics. on
they go, on and on up the small incline, gathering
sacks of leaves for burning in the clearing and waiting
on mcdole.

mcdole has not been seen nor heard of since halloween
and everyone is getting a trifle nervous. spike took
the sheet of paper from his inside coat pocket and
tried to decipher the code, but as he glanced over the
page, he realised he had not noticed the note in the
margin that said it means what it means, followed by,
wee alfie at the castle picturehouse on the castlereagh
road, whistling on the corner next door where he kept
johnny mack brown’s horse. o solo mio by mcgimsey and
the man who played the saw outside the city hall.
pastie suppers down at davy’s chipper, gravy rings,
barmbracks, wagon wheels, snowb-lls. a sense of wonder.

on and on. spike and boffyflow tramping with sacks of
leaves over the gransha road to ballystockart and back
again. puck up said boffy, it means what it means and
we have a windfall. if we’re not daft enough to burn
these leaves, we can freeze them ’til next autumn,
study them and then let them decompose. if we can get
in touch with your man, i would strongly advise him to
do ditto with the doc-ments.

just at that moment, as if by a strike of faith, mcdole
came round the bent on a bike. okay lads, you’re on to
something, don’t blow it. go out to the isle and have a
few scoops on me. the boys drove out in the charabanc
to daft eddies and ordered up. and so down to work
putting the doc-ments in perspective. mcdole got out
the accordian and started to wail when heart is open
there’s loads from ballygowan to ballyhacamore. he spun
round on one leg, grabbing spike by the lapels, you’re
terrible you are. you blurt. he put away six doubles of
jameson from the bar and sank into a deep apathetic
slumber, mumbling blinkin’ cowboys, blinkin’ cowboys…



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