Romantasize your life oh vagrant son,
for the glass is half full tonight.
Wherever the breeze may take you, you pull out your guitar and write.
Make your bed under a canopy of stars,
as the wind quietly whispers your name.
Give up society for freedom,
and companionship for change.
Under flowering eucalypts,
in springtime breeze, I imagine you singing in the sun.
Guitar in hand, an audience of trees listening intently to your strum.
You wrote your way into my heart when we were young and fancy free,
The story’s told through your lyrics of truth,
captured my world in words and dreams
Call upon the Ghosts of Drifters Past,
to share your cheap wine and cigarettes tonight.
For Christmas is a time for family and friends,
to toast those long forgotten nights.
Leaves fall around your starlit home,
the days are getting shorter.
Until winters icy chill comes to burn the meat from your bones and you can’t find food or shelter.
Only the bottle can give warmth to those quivering hands right now as the night becomes your day. Matches wet, shoes all worn and those broken strings no longer play.
You romanticised your life oh vagrant son,
alas the glass is half empty tonight.
Under a blanket of stars you cry the world is your home while tears run from your broken heart.
Slim pickings are left for the common men,
that time has left weary and grey,
You can search for yourself again tomorrow,
but tonight your shadow’s here to stay.