Lyrics:

When my neurons conspire to direct my thoughtsAway from divorce and competitive sportsBack to the place where all rivers 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 handAnd the fiddlers playedAnd the planners plan what would beOn a back seat in a court roomSat Molly Malone and Leopold BloomUntil 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 the 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 will be will beWhen a friend dies and the tears riseFrom that deep well that never runs dryAnd the women break their braceletsAnd the men take their whisky outsideIn a pied-a-terre on the rue St DenisThe red velvet curtain pulls back to revealThe place where the dark side meets the angel in meThe angel in meWhen my synapses pause in my quest for applauseWhen my ego lets go of my end of the boneTo focus instead on the love that is pr