The Dancing Did - Charnel Boy
текст песни

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 . .