Song of the Urban Gypsy

I think of the old days,
Remember the old ways
As I join the crush on the train.

I still hear the wheels creak,
Still hear the wind speak
As I wait for the bus in the rain.

I still smell the wood smoke.
Still touch the wild oak,
As I trudge up the company stairs.

I still sing the old tunes
dream of the full moon,
As I sit in my hard office chair.

Another day in the rat race,
Another hour at the coal face,
Will wither my spirit to ash.

So its throw off this load for me,
Back to the road for me,
I'll not trade my freedom for cash.