I was eighteen when I came to town They call it the Summer of Love Burning babies, burning flags The Hawks against the Doves Well, I took a job at the Steamie Way down on Cauldrum Street And I fell in love with a laundry girl She was working next to me Brown hair zig-zagged round her face The look of half-surprise Like a fox caught in the headlights There was animal in her eyes Well, she said to me “Can't you see I'm not the factory kind and If you don't take me out of here I'll lose my mind.” CHORUS She was a rare thing Fine as a beeswing So fine a breath of wind might blow her away She was a lost child She was running wild, she said “So long as there's no price in love, I'll stay You wouldn't want me any other way.” We busked around the market towns From picking down in Kent We could tinker pots and pans And knives wherever we went We were camping around the Gower And the work was pretty good She wouldn't wait for the harvest I thought we should Well I said to her we'll settle down We'll get a few acres dug With a fire burning in the hearth And babies on the rug She said “Now man, you foolish man That surely sounds like hell You might be lord of half the world You'll not own me as well.” CHORUS We were drinking more in those days 'Til our tempers reached a pitch Like a fool I let her run away When she took the rambling itch At the last I'd heard she's living rough Back on Derby beat With a bottle of White Horse in her pocket And a wolfhound at her feet Oh they say that she get married once To a man named Romany Brown But even a Gypsy caravan Was too much like settling down (Erin Boyle) They say her rose is faded now Rough weather and hard booze But maybe that's the price you pay For the chains you refuse (Both) She was a rare thing Fine as a beeswing And I miss her more than ever words could say If I could just taste All of her wildness now If I could hold her in my arms today Then I wouldn't want her any other way If I could hold her in my arms today I wouldn't want her any other way