IN MY BACK TAVERN YEARS


hazy shapes and faces come to mind and fade away
in dark and smoky backrooms where gypsy minstrels play
i bartered sleep for time to watch the grinding of the gears
so many songs sung and forgotten in my back tavern years

everybody had a song and every voice made its sound
all the hippie girls appeared from nowhere twirling all around
the music and the dancers flowing through my eyes and ears
all the details blend together in the memory of my back tavern years

they showed up one night together barely holding each other up
we were all over the limit and we all refilled the cup
we plotted grand adventures out beyond the last frontiers
and we refused to heed reality in my back tavern years 

the circus came to town and raged when those two came on board
you could tell he had connections but she's the one we all adored
sometimes it all seemed like a show, and they were the puppeteers
pulled by strings nobody gave much much thought in my back tavern years

i can't recall much forethought... it all happened on a whim
and i didn't even notice i was seeing more of her than him
but worlds tilt and topple over when they don't have both hemispheres
and our world was spinning tilted in my back tavern years

we split up on the docks that night, she said we'd meet again someday
and all our plans for the future never seemed so far away
as the nectar flowed and we poled and rowed like drunken gondoliers
down rough uncharted waters in my back tavern years

the way that people came and went, we never knew who'd come and gone
but i got a sinking feeling as the lonely days wore on
if you see her, say hello, she might be in tangiers
i only know her whereabouts in my back tavern years

those times seems more important as they're further left behind
trying to make sense of what remains there in my mind
left with colours from every picture along with silly souvenirs
gathered all along the journey through my back tavern years

stories coalesce from somewhere deep inside of me
make me wonder where i've gotten to and where those two might be
as quickly as these dreams rolls in, the phantom vision clears
each new morning shrouds the archives of my back tavern years

hazy deeds and demons come to mind and fade away
in dark and smoky backrooms, i can still smell them today
time and all her children grind the watching of the gears
so many songs sung and forgotten in my back tavern years