Van Morrison - For Mr. Thomas Lyrics
From faded newsprint used to wrap a fishInscrutably the muse selects your faceAs i sit drinking famously in an irish barFive thousand miles and thirty years awayWith the usual ceremonial you were crowned one nightKing of the field where doctors nail the cowsTo make of the *****'s quill the rights of languageAnd the pricking heart a sword against the hoursLet smirking scholars writhe in their favourite bondageAnd hold you plaintiff to the charge of artExhibit a: he falls on legendary linesSinging mother i don't want a pain here in my heartThe judge in me sucks eggs and jerks the sacred meatBut the boy in me still dreams in milk wood townLike two provincial bastards playing the galleriesI hold your photo to a mirror upside downAnd as bacon wafts through hungry streets, your ghost pervadesJust like an old ex-boxer aged twenty twoStaged-up like falstaff or the wild welsh rimbaudYou'd laugh to see the monograms they make of youAh, mr. thomas let us ramble through the midnight fairLet us throw old bottles at the ferris wheelLet us paint library on the library let us raid the moonlightLet us steal whatever we are supposed to stealLet us watch while the days grow daily more mundaneThat rough god go riding with his shearsHack wide the belly of the swollen mountainsAnd rip molten heroes forth from their furious tearsOh, mr. thomas, oh, mr. thomas,Let us steal whatever we're supposed to stealMr. thomas, oh, mr. thomas,Why don't we feel whatever we're supposed to feelOh, mr. thomas, mr. thomas,Why don't we feel whatever we're supposed to feelOh, mr. thomas let us ramble through the midnightLet us throw bottles at the ferris wheelLet us paint library on the library let us raid the moonlightLet us steal whatever we're supposed to steal
