The evenings of Damask are falling
The youth of truth chest
Feeds a starling
With his heart.

A chosen man begged by the wayside
A horse came soon and died before him
And said eat.

The icy claws of earth are crawling
Upon my baby`s brow and calling
Please come home.

The boy unlike the man was smiling
For gulleys, streams and hills would hide him
Like a swan.

A vagabond, a weaver warrior
Produced a loom, a cheese and chopper
And said choose.

My sandled feet are fleet like water
I kiss the limbs is Earthess daughter
A little tree.

Copyright: NORTH HUDSON MUSIC
Writer(s): MARC BOLAN