Lyrics: Allan Taylor
Music: Lutz Möller
Pernod from Paris, peaches from Provence
Mangos from Montego Bay, where the swallowtails dance
Primitivo from Puglia, Melange from old Vienna
Gamal Dansk from Denmark and oranges from Sienna
I saw Fireflies spinning through a haze of m*******a
And sat with Old Companeros in Little Havana
I rode a spirited white horse in the Sierra Nevada
And I was drinking with Vlado in Ljubljana
In New York City I saw the Twin Towers fall
And in Germany I took a stone from the Berlin wall
In Washington I laid a flower for those killed in Vietnam
And I think I saw Vincent in old Amsterdam
I saw a million white crosses in the fields of Passchendaele
And in the bars of Brussels I raised a glass to Jacques Brel
In Venice I gave a ring to the girl of my heart
It was made of yellow and white gold and blue Tanzanite
Dubrovnik was sad and crippled with pain
Libertas Ragusa you will rise again
In Zagreb the old soldier by the Palace Hotel
With his few possessions he was trying to sell
In Prague we hoped for Spring again
But the dream was crushed when the tanks rolled in
In Leipzig the bell of freedom was rung
The regime was broken, the battle was won
I saw dolphins swim in the South China Seas
And was entranced by the beauty of the Balinese
And then to Hong Kong and the bars of Wan Chai
Where the Chinese lanterns float in the sky
The Caribbean islands are jewels in the sea
And like Sirens at night they called out to me
In Charlotte Amalie I sat in Sparky’s Bar
Writing a song on my Martin Guitar
Kerouac’s voice still rings in my mind
Get out on the road you don’t know what you'll find
Take the road south down to old Mexico
And the Florida coast where the Flamingos go
North to New England to the coast of Maine
And then on to Canada from Lake Champlain
West to San Francisco with a flower in your hair
The city is full ‘cause all the Hippies are there
These disparate images come to an end
When the reasons for going are hard to defend
Every new song sounds like another
And begins to remind you of a long-lost lover
You're running on empty, you're flying too high
And somehow life is passing you by
Hang on to the good times, let the rest go
Whatever you missed, you don’t need to know
And what did you learn from these crazy times
Life is a poem of couplets and rhymes
Did you love well, was your love returned
Would it break your heart if your poems were burned
Was your aim true, did you hit the mark
Did you light the fire, did you make a spark
Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose
Sometimes you never get the chance to choose
CODA
I took the road, and come what may
I lived out the dream of young Ramble-away
Over the hill and far away
I lived out the dream of young Ramble-away
The great home of the soul is the open road.
D.H. Lawrence