Solemn faced,
The village settles down,
Undetected my the stars,
And the hangman plays the mandolin before he goes to sleep
And the last thing on his mind
Is the Wild Eyed Boy imprisoned
‘Neath the covered wooden shaft.
Folds the rope
Into its bag.
Blows his pipe of smolders,
Blankets smoke into the room.
And the day will end for some
As the night begins for one.
Staring through the message in his eyes
Lies a solitary son
>From the mountain called the Freecloud
Where the eagle dare not fly.
And the patience in his sigh
Gives no indication
For the townsmen to decide.
So the village Dreadful yawns
Pronouncing gross diversion
As the label for the dog.
Oh «It’s the madness in his eyes»
As he breaks the night to cry:
«It’s really Me.
Really You
And really Me.
It’s so hard for us to really be
Really You
And really Me.
You’ll lose me though I’m always really free.»
And the mountain moved its eyes
To the world of realize
Where the snow had saved a place
For the Wild Eyed Boy from Freecloud
And the village Dreadful cried
As the rope began to rise
For the smile stayed on his face
Of the Wild Eyed Boy from Freecloud.
And the women once proud
Clutched the heart of the crowd
As the boulders smashed down from the mountain’s hand
And the Magic in the stare
Of the Wild Eyed Boy said:
«Stop,Freecloud
They won’t think to cut me down.»
But the cottages fell
Like a playing card hell
And the tears on the face
Of the Wise Boy
Came trembling down
To the rumbling ground
And the missionary mystic of peace|love
Stumbled back to cry among the clouds,
Kicking back the pebbles