A song from Richard Thompson
Vincent Black Lightning 1952
Said Molly to James, "That's a fine motorbike.
A girl could feel special on any such like".
Said James to Molly, "It's hats off to you,
it's a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952.
And I've seen you on the corners, and the cafes, it seems.
Red hair and black leather, my favorite colour schemes."
And he pulled around behind, and off to Box Hill
They did ride.
Said James to Molly, "Here's a ring for your right hand,
but I tell you in earnest I'm a dangerous man.
See, I fought with the law since I was seventeen,
I robbed many a man to get my Vincent machine.
And now I'm 21 years, I might make 22,
but I don't mind dying, but for the love of you.
But if fate should break my stride,
I'll give you my Vincent
to ride".
"Come down, come down Red Molly", yelled Sergeant McRae,
"They've taken young James adie for armed robbery.
Shotgun blast hit his chest, left nothing inside.
Hurry down Red Molly to his dying bedside".
When they came to the hospital, there wasn't much left.
He was running out of road, he was running out of breath.
But he smiled to see her cry,
and gave her his Vincent
to ride.
Said James "in my opinion, there's nothing in this world,
beats a '52 Vincent and a red-headed girl.
See, Hondas and Enfields and Harleys and Greaves won't do.
They don't have a soul like a Vincent '52".
He reached out his hands, and he slipped her the keys,
said "I've got no further use for these.
I see angels and aerials in leather and chrome,
swooping down from heaven to carry me home".
And he gave her one last kiss and died,
and gave her his Vincent
to ride.
And another
Beeswing
I was nineteen when I came to town
They called in the Summer of Love
They were burningbabies, burning flags
The Hawks against the Doves
I took a job in the STeamie
Down on Cauldrum Street
I fell in love with a laundry girl
Was working next to me
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
As long as there's no price on love, I'll stay
And you wouldn't want me any other way
Brown hair zig-zag round her face
And a look of half-surprise
Like a fox caught in the headlights
There was an animal in her eyes
She said, young man, O can't you see
I'm not the factory kind
If you don't take me out of here
I'll surely lose my miind
CHORUS
We busked around the market towns
And picked fruit down in Kent
And we could tinker lamps and pots
And knives wherever we went
And I said that we might settle down
Get a few acres dug
Fire burning in the hearth
And babies on the rug
She said O man, you foolish man
It surely sounds like hell
You might be lord of half the world
You'll not own me as well
CHORUS
We was camping down the Gower one time
The work was pretty good
She thought we shouldn't wait for frost
And I thought maybe we should
We were drinking more in those days
And tempers reached a pitch
Like a fool I let her run
With the rambling itch
Last I hear she's sleeping out
Back on Derby beat
White Horse in her hip pocket
And a wolfhound at her feet
And they say she even marriend once
A man named Romany Brown
But even a Gypsy caravan
Was too much settliing down
And they say her flower is faded now
Hard weather and hard booze
But maybe that's just hte price you pay
For the chains you refuse
She was a rare thing
Fine as a beeswing
And I missher 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
I'll stop now
