Seán Tyrrell - The Green Eye Of The Little Yellow God | Текст песни

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• Seán Tyrrell
• The Green Eye Of The Little Yellow God

There’s a one-eyed Yellow idol to the north of Kathmandu,
There’s a little marble cross below the town.
There’s a broken hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the little Yellow God forever gazes down.

He was known as Mad Carew to the subs of Kathmandu.
He was hotter than they were inclined to tell,
But for all his foolish pranks he was worshipped in the ranks,
And the Colonel’s daughter smiled on him as well.

He loved her all along with a passion of the strong,
The fact that she loved him was plain to all.
She was nearing twenty-one when arrangements were begun
To celebrate her birthday with a ball.

He wrote and asked what present would she like from Mad Carew.
They met next say as he dismissed the squad,
And jestingly she told him that the only thing would do
Would be the green eye of the Little Yellow God.

On the night before the dance, Carew seemed in a trance.
They chafed at him as they puffed on their cigars,
But he never once did smile, sat their all the while
Walked out into the night beneath the stars.
‘Twas dawn when he returned, his shirt and tunic torn
A gash across his forehead dripping red.
They patched him right away, he slept throughout the day
The colonel’s daughter watched beside his bed.

At last he awoke, asked his tunic be sent through.
She brought it, and he thanked her with a nod.
He bade her search the pockets saying, “that’s from Mad Carew”
‘Twas the Green Eye of the Little Yellow God.

She upbraided Mad Carew in the way that woman do,
Though strangely both her eyes were hot and red.
She wouldn’t take the stone and Carew was left alone
With the jewel that he had risked his life to get.

When the ball was at its height on that still and tropic night
She thought of him and hastened to his room.
As she crossed the barrack square she could near the dreamy air
Of a waltz turn floating softly through the gloom.

His door was open wide, the moon was shining through,
The floor was wet and slippery where she trod.
And ugly knife lay buried in the heart of Mad Carew
‘Twas the vengeance of the Little Yellow God.

There’s a one-eyed Yellow Idol to the north of Kathmandu.
There’s a little marble cross below the town.
There’s a broken hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the Little Yellow God forever gazes down.

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