I was 18 when I came to town, they called it the summer of love,
Burning babies burning flags, the hawks against the dove,
I took a job at the steaming, way down on Caldrum Street,
And I Fell in love with a laundry girl that was workin next to me.

Brown hair zig zagged across her face, and a look of half surprise,
Like a fox caught in the headlights, there was animal in her eyes,
She said to me can't you see, I'm not the factory kind,
If you don't take me out of here, I'll surely lose my mind.


She was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing,
So fine a breath of wind might blow her away,
She was a lost child, she was runnin' wild,
She said 'So long as theres no price on love I'll stay
You wouldn't want me any other way'.

We busked around the market towns fruit pickin down in kent,
We could tinker pots and pans and knives wherever we went.
We were campin down the Gower, and the work was mighty good.
She wouldn't wait for the harvest, I thought we should.

I said to her we'll settle down, and get a few acres dug,
A fire burning in the hearth and babbies on the rug.
She said 'Oh man you foolish man that surely sounds like hell,
You might be lord of half the world, you'll not own me as well'.


We were drinking more in those days, our tempers reached a pitch,
Like a fool I let her run away when she took the rambling itch.
Last I heard she was living rough, back on the Derby beat
A bottle of White Horse in her pocket, a Wolfhound at her feet.

They say that she got married once, to a man called Romany Brown,
Even a gypsy caravan was too much like settlin' down
They say her rose has faded, rough weather and hard booze,
Maybe thats the price you pay for the chains that you refuse.

She was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
I miss her more than ever words can say,
If I could just taste all of her wildness now,
If I could hold her in my arms today,
I wouldn't want her any other way.

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