like a ribbon on a fan
and the afternoon cicada
threw a spell across this land
and the waves rolled off the Georgian rocks
and threw a friend upon the sand
oh None
now I understand
that the searching never stops
until you have a man in mind
second booth the King's Head
leave the ordinary men behind
go ask them to play
all the glorious love songs they can find
as for you, Dewar
now I understand
that the searching never stops
until you have a drink in hand
drinking to your gloom
in the slow-whirl licensed room
ah, yes - she was lovely
you told us (many times)
'neath the moon