She smiles at me
|
from beyond the eastern sea-shore.
|
Flashing jewelled eyes,
|
she hoists her skirts so high.
|
Nouvelle cuisine or an oyster bar ---
|
it's really up to her.
|
I'll write every cheque she brings to me.
|
I shoot on sight ---
|
it's my European legacy.
|
|
Round the castle walls ---
|
about the Highlands and the Islands
|
the faint reminders stand.
|
Visitors who took a hand
|
a thousand years ago, or so ---
|
stranded high and dry by tides ---
|
washed up a new identity.
|
The channel's wide ---
|
but it's their European legacy.
|
|
I strain my eyes
|
against the southern light advancing.
|
On whiter cliffs I'm high.
|
The sea birds roll and tumble as they fly.
|
I hear distant mainland music echo
|
in my island ears.
|
My feet begin to move instinctively
|
to the warmer beat of my European legacy.
|
|
She smiles at me
|
from beyond the eastern sea-shore.
|
Flashing jewelled eyes,
|
she hoists her skirts so high.
|
Nouvelle cuisine or an oyster bar ---
|
it's really up to her.
|
I'll write every cheque she brings to me.
|
She shoots on sight ---
|
it's her European legacy.
|
|
-----------------
|
European Legacy
|
Jethro Tull |