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I was nineteen when I came to townThey called in the Summer of LoveThey were burningbabies, burning flagsThe Hawks against the DovesI took a job in the STeamieDown on Cauldrum StreetI fell in love with a laundry girlWas working next to meShe was a rare thingFine as a beeswingSo fine a breath of wind might blow her awayShe was a lost childShe was running wild, she saidAs long as there's no price on love, I'll stayAnd you wouldn't want me any other wayBrown hair zig-zag round her faceAnd a look of half-surpriseLike a fox caught in the headlightsThere was an animal in her eyesShe said, young man, O can't you seeI'm not the factory kindIf you don't take me out of hereLetras de cancionesI'll surely lose my miindShe was a rare thingFine as a beeswingSo fine a breath of wind might blow her awayShe was a lost childShe was running wild, she saidAs long as there's no price on love, I'll stayAnd you wouldn't want me any other wayWe busked around the market townsAnd picked fruit down in KentAnd we could tinker lamps and potsAnd knives wherever we wentAnd I said that we might settle downGet a few acres dugFire burning in the hearthAnd babies on the rugShe said O man, you foolish manIt surely sounds like hellYou might be lord of half the worldYou'll not own me as wellShe was a rare thingFine as a beeswingSo fine a breath of wind might blow her awayShe was a lost childShe was running wild, she saidAs long as there's no price on love, I'll stayAnd you wouldn't want me any other wayWe was camping down the Gower one timeThe work was pretty goodShe thought we shouldn't wait for frostAnd I thought maybe we shouldWe were drinking more in those daysAnd tempers reached a pitchLike a fool I let her runWith the rambling itchLast I hear she's sleeping outBack on Derby beatWhite Horse in her hip pocketAnd a wolfhound at her feetAnd they say she even marriend onceA man named Romany BrownBut even a Gypsy caravanWas too much settliing downAnd they say her flower is faded nowHard weather and hard boozeBut maybe that's just hte price you payFor the chains you refuseShe was a rare thingFine as a beeswingAnd I missher more than ever words could sayIf I could just tasteAll of her wildness nowIf I could hold her in my arms todayThen I wouldn't want her any other way From Letras Mania