Fire-breather
I see a Gypsy Queen
Somewhere in-between
my old life and the way
it always waited for me
History treed in that old swing
I sing of nations, babes, rave
about everything right and cave
into old pressures, struggling high
to maintain
the race, in pain but not out
for the count
Pouncing on sunlight
while night is approaching
Slowly roving eyes spy my little hide
But not going quietly this time,
for I've just
learned
to fly.