See you at the tree where good don’t come near
The almanac screamed I was still in that dangerous year
The one in which the gypsy woman claimed I will be dead
But under the shade we’ll be ourselves, you wickedly said.
It was a dangerous time. But a moment I dare not walk by
I saw the joke when I reached the tree, under a burnt out sky
Was this another moment I am destined to collect?
I knew why they kept away; the good in me felt the effect.
I waited. The whisky swirled with the time
I looked at the dashboard. That cheap digital watch chimed.
Outside the car, the dark clouds huddled to meet
I waved at the blind man cursing in the heat
It seemed as if he may never leave
He looked at me. My friend, complexity can be so naive.
That blind man who patiently waited there
Then even he looked away at some place in despair
I kept the car engine running, like a movie I had once seen
It had eager guns that clung on to hesitant jeans
The slow beat of drums got closer with every second.
An entire village followed you, as you appeared around the bend
Temptation prevailed, and one finger finally gave in
A shot rang out. Burning your name across my skin.
You jumped in the car, and screamed drive as fast as you can
I looked at you, welcome to the standing car of the running man
The car was old, but the wheels surprisingly held their nerve
But I saw them smiling. Like I got what I deserved.
As the mob disappeared in the rearview mirror
The flash of steel in your hand made things clearer.
Come to the tree whispered faces when I dreamed
This is your year, a group of gypsies screamed
Run away, the smiling blind man appeared
The flash of steel and my mind cleared.
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