Lyrics:

When my neurons conspire to direct my thoughtsAway from divorce and competitive sportsBack to the place where all riv
ers run to the seaThen I shall be freeYes I shall be freeOn a see-saw in a strange landThe jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's h
andAnd the fiddlers playedAnd the planners plan what would beOn a back seat in a court roomSat Molly Malone and Leopold Blo
omUntil the police came down with a new broomAnd swept them cleanLike GeronimoLike Quinn the EskimoLike the BlackfootAnd
like the ArapahoLike Crazy HorseI'll be the last one to lay down my gunOn the open road in a bar roomA pick up band plays
a new tuneWhen the coloured girls singI feel my heart boomWhen a new song hits the right noteWhen a clearing sky saves an
old boatWhen an insight strikes the moteFrom mine own eyeLike GeronimoLike Quinn the EskimoLike the BlackfootAnd like th
e ArapahoLike Crazy HorseI'll be the last one to lay down my gunJust out of sightBeyond the next rangeI'll feel the heat
of a flickering flameOn an African Plain by a thorn treeMy old friend Philippe is waiting for meQue cera, ceraWhat ever wi
ll be will beWhen a friend dies and the tears riseFrom that deep well that never runs dryAnd the women break their bracelets
And the men take their whisky outsideIn a pied-a-terre on the rue St DenisThe red velvet curtain pulls back to revealThe p
lace where the dark side meets the angel in meThe angel in meWhen my synapses pause in my quest for applauseWhen my ego let
s go of my end of the boneTo focus instead on the love that is pr