Campfire In The Dark

Intro: Verse My father rises early and he makes a sup of tea, he lights the kitchen stove and then he calls me. His days are often empty, he’s nothing much to do, so he sits and tells me stories of the travelling life he knew. In the evening they would meet in lonely country lanes A field away you’ll hear a collie bark. And they’d pass the time away with talks about the day, standing round the campfire in the dark, standing round the campfire in the dark Verse My mother likes the house, the hot water and the rooms, it’s warm in the winter and she’s handy with the broom. Sometimes she makes colcannon, more often griddle bread, there’s a hunger deep inside her for the travelling life thas dead In the evening she would lift the black pot from the coals, ‘a bit to eat‘ she always would remark. There’d be vessels left to clean while children could be seen playing round the campfire in the dark playing round the campfire in the dark. Verse We’d go down to the pool hall to chat up the town boers, sometimes at their discos we can’t get past the doors. We’re still tinkers to them and it’s thrown at our ears, We’re still the awful strangers even after all these years Verse And I think about my own life and the way that it will be, an escort van, a bit of dealing, a wife and a family. D. Thursday I collect the dole, Friday pitch and toss, But on the site I think about the traveller’s way we’ve lost. Verse And I wish that I could rise, wash the sleep out of these eyes, and listen to the sweet song of the lark. And I wish that I could be in campfire company, with the sound of horses moving in the dark, with the sound of horses moving in the dark, with the sound of horses moving moving in the dark.