Lyrics:

When my neurons conspire to direct my thoughts Away from divorce and competitive sports Back to the place where all rivers run to the sea Then I shall be free Yes I shall be free On a see-saw in a strange land The jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's hand And the fiddlers played And the planners plan what would be On a back seat in a court room Sat Molly Malone and Leopold Bloom Until the police came down with a new broom And swept them clean Like Geronimo Like Quinn the Eskimo Like the Blackfoot And like the Arapaho Like Crazy Horse I'll be the last one to lay down my gun On the open road in a bar room A pick up band plays a new tune When the coloured girls sing I feel my heart boom When a new song hits the right note When a clearing sky saves an old boat When an insight strikes the mote From mine own eye Like Geronimo Like Quinn the Eskimo Like the Blackfoot And like the Arapaho Like Crazy Horse I'll be the last one to lay down my gun Just out of sight Beyond the next range I'll feel the heat of a flickering flame On an African Plain by a thorn tree My old friend Philippe is waiting for me Que cera, cera What ever will be will be When a friend dies and the tears rise From that deep well that never runs dry And the women break their bracelets And the men take their whisky outside In a pied-a-terre on the rue St Denis The red velvet curtain pulls back to reveal The place where the dark side meets the angel in me The angel in me When my synapses pause in my quest for applause When my ego lets go of my end of the bone To focus instead on the love that is pr