Gafyn Davies

Born once in a valley, twice on a hill. Spent free nights on a mountain with four winds blowing. Five visions came in a dream, six times 'til the seventh day, he ate, but who's counting, nine tenants. The next day, whilst sitting on the promenade, a minstrel carrying a preposition, a clown with a note and a key, and ball of fire wearing a verb, taught him the value of pulse. That night they danced on the cliff between a burning king and a chariotted silver queen, twirling the stars with the neck of a broken guitar. The magic from that night still lives in one glowing ember. It is said to contain the secret of the soul. Men have spent futile lives searching, only to repeat the last words spoken by the keykeeper on that fateful night: "in vein". When he returned to the homeland, he had learnt his trade. Night followed night upon street upon street. In the cave where four gods were born he saw the devil screaming and ripping down the walls. Disillusioned he went in search of new love. The messenger and the old time tap dancer he had known from long ago stayed with him and he never forgot the old songs. He found new nights and new streets and in the darkness of a storm's eye the Invisible Band was born. Now you can see him, heading back to the old shores, his caravan in line. Read more on Last.fm. User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply.