Keepers of The Flame
Words and Music Pat Drummond
For the folkies

 

Looking like 'The Wreck of The Hesperus'
I went down to The Bitter End (*1)
I was searchin' for the ghost of Dylan
I said he was my friend
People looked suspicious
It didn't hurt him to pretend (*2)
with borrowed songs and a borrowed name (*3)
Forty years behind the game
I'm the keeper of the flame

I saw a shadow speak on Bleeker Street (*4)
of Tom and Jerry's fame (*5)
I was searchin' for the Sons of Silence (*6)
No-one knew their names
A Jewish boy with Christmas songs (*7)
and passion in his veins
Duffel Coats and muffled pain
Forty years behind the game
I'm the keeper of the flame

In the 'Early Morning Rain' (*8)
where the 'Four Strong Winds' blow cold (*9)
'At Seventeen' I learnt the truth (*10)
There is no 'Heart of Gold' (*11)
Busking through the 'Streets of London' (*11)
playing real good 'For Free' (*12)
tuning in my guitar to 'W.O.L.D.' (*13)

(*14)

(*15)

(*16)

The blood and tears have disappeared
from Acoustic Radio
'ghosts and empty sockets' (*17)
These days it's just ghosts
No money in my pockets
No ancient hits to boast
in the claim and counter claim
Forty years behind the game
We're the keepers of the flame

In the years 'Before the Deluge' (*18)
Back when we knew which was which
We sang songs that seemed to matter
Before those songs that made us rich
While all those 'worker bees' in Nashville
Write all those songs that sound the same
Out here on the border
Ride the keepers of the flame
Out here on the borderline (*19)
Ride the keepers of the flame

 

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