Song for Lorca

The line of her headband

into the night of her ears

the fountain of hair between those lips



Drink it before it's not pure anymore

Drink it before it's not pure anymore



Gypsy won't have anything with her

she said the line in her hand is too new

and he'll come from across the water



Well his victory comes slow but true

victory comes slow

victory comes slow but true

victory comes slow



I      

Life in Grenada

Death in Seville

Dying down in sweet Barcelona

The moon's coming in for the kill





Sunrise attacking a finger

She writes a word in the sand

So green

So fast

So good



Poetry came true this time

Poetry came true

Poetry came true this time

Poetry came true



We're blind    

Death in Seville