Oh Grecian summer
Began with yon Joe Strummer
His Spanish ways, oh Spanish days
Clash boys clashed from London to Andalusia
Now he’s passed away
His Mescalano’s have had their day
He’s moved right on, he’s left his all
The back catalogue of a music lover
It is her surest love
That is what she’s surest of
He’s home to stay
Never gonna go away
Her sad refrain
He’ll soon be back again
And surest love
What are those words you say
You were singing yesterday
Never gonna go away
Then that railway train
Will he ever be back again
Hear that mellow blow
From the horn and the piccolo
Surely, she’s lost her surest love
Downtown now he’s a gigolo
With her he’s left his lust-filled stain
As if forever, oh will he be back again
She mourns the loss
On this isle of Kos
She’ll paint again
Lover’s love she will abstain, abstain
She will still feel the pain
Ever will he, ever be back again
The boats have sailed
He’s left no mail
His muse and his minder
He’s off across the seas to find her
Remind her of the heroes he has slain
Never, not ever, never to be back there again
Singer
Sing your sweet songs
Your hallelujahs
Your California dreaming
Singer
Sing your sweet songs
Oh Spanish guitar
Strum your tune away
Your footsteps in the sand
Your castles and diamonds
Oh Spanish guitar
Strum your tune away
Mocking bird
Fly your wings away
Here to stay
Here till Saturday
Mocking bird
Fly your wings away
And still I go on floating
I can’t explain the feeling so
But you can tell from my writing
It’s not too too easy letting go
But truly there’s no fever crazy
Nothing’s driving me, not live nor lazy
No absence making feelings fonder
No loss or absent mind to wander
It’s a most unusual face, to face
In the morning when I’ve slept well
I just get on with what I have got to do
No remorse or rekindling, hurts not breaking through
But I know it’s not me that’s holding
Lack of scolding feeling not of my conscious making
Yet something else, something unknown is going on
For how long, how long, how long, how…
My befriended mind descended
Lent itself a favour, or was it two
The bitterness is ended
It could not, could not be defended
My censored mind now is scented
Meant for long to labour
Except that now it is all spent through
The bitterness is indeed near on ended
Now it’s the sweet memories
My sweet memories being mended
