Jimmy Clay (Patrick Sky) When you walk down the street, who will follow you? Six o'clock, its getting late. The moon it is rising as the sticky dew Molds on the ground by the gate. With your rifle on your shoulder as you walk along Listening to your boot-heels hit the sod Smoking your cigar as you hum a song Thinking of your mother, and your God Ah, buy you're alone, Jimmy Clay As you smoke your cigar and earn your pay. And fifteen thousand soldiers are marching by your side Still you're alone, Jimmy Clay. And remember New York town, good old New York town? The friends, the drinks, the cops and all And the whores who took your money when you couldn't stand And all the roaring nights you can't recall? And remember Alice Fay, good old A lice Fay? She'd been through life at least ten times around And when she said she loved you, well she meant it, boy Remember the night you nearly drowned? Ah, but you're alone, Jimmy Clay As you smoke your cigar and think of yesterday Well, yesterday don't matter when its gone away Where did it go, Jimmy Clay? So as you lie there in the mud, who will talk to you? Nobody, Jimmy Clay For when you're gone mankind follows after you Doesn't it, Jimmy Clay? And your face is growing moldy where they kissed your cheek And said "Please die for us, Jimmy Clay" And so you died a soldier and a hero's death Congratulations, Jimmy Clay. Now you're alone, Jimmy Clay You can smoke your cigar, and earn your pay And somewhere in the distance you can hear the fiddle play But not one note will change, Jimmy Clay (c) Rabelaisian Music, Inc. these from the Album notes of Patrick Sky's "Reality is Bad Enough" Verve FTS-3052., GF apr00
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!