The Dancing Did - Charnel Boy | Текст песни

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• The Dancing Did
• Charnel Boy

I’m the Charnel Boy,
Bone inspector,
Unpaid pagan spectral rector.
Sheep grass boy with lupine whine,
Wood stained skin and eyes incarnadine,
And eyes and eyes incarnadine
Incarnad-eyes incarnadine.
I tend. .
Tend the Tutankhamens of England,
And visit every barrow sooner or later,
I’m the ancient king curator.
Move like a mist, like a will-o’-the-wisp,
I’m the archetypal archeologist.
Every night at a different charnel ground
I make my ritual habitual rounds
From rolling southern downs
To winding northern wall,
To barn owl’s hoot, goat-sucker’s call,
I search and scrape across the landscape.
Move like a mist, like a will-o’-the-wisp
Move like a mist, like a will-o’-the-wisp
Move like a mist, like a will-o’-the-wisp.
But water-meadows bog me down,
I’ve got to be on the whistling
High ground,
Where I smell out barrow bones,
Like a lurcher smells out rodent’s hidden homes
Like a lurcher smells out hidden homes
Like a lurcher smells out hidden homes . .

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