White to Blue

Spray inside the engine,
let our journey begin,
this diesal vehicle
is full up to the brim,

an old escort van
with a gearbox from hell,
two adventurers inside
with stories to tell,

the first stop is calais,
no tax disc to show,
papers are illusive,
MOT certificate aswell.

white escort starts to panic,
as gearbox falls away,
the adventurers laugh,
as it's better that way,

the police are at hand,
to tow to estree blanche,
but papers are illusive,
mais moi non comprende!

a night in the van,
in a small hostile town,
soon we'd need to leave,
as even dogs wore a frown.

Blue van came our way,
and to paris we would head,
back on the road,
and ready for the dead.

In paris
and pere la chaise,
we found some heroes,
and a car park for a bed.

12 hours then to Ancona,
San Marino along the way,
village on a mountain,
three countries in a day.

I think it's not fortune,
to have this life today,
as it's only for ourselves we cherish,
nobody will see it the way i say.

twenty hours
then sailing the seas,
to patras from ancona,
from italia to greece,

slept outside immigration,
too drunk for a chair,
kicked out of disco room,
the greeks didnt care..

then onto athens,
and a twelve hour stretch,
a McGreek burger awaiting,
a potential vomit and wretch.

but journeys need some oddness,
like the prostitute who said 'no pay',
tried to get into van,
as we tried to drive away

once finally arrived,
to crete where we play,
the guitar strings were ready,
but had nowehere to stay,

drinking too much,
made the whole thing turn blue,
the summer disappeared,
flushed away down the lou.

we'll search the many wonders,
and i'm sure we'll grow old,
across the seas there is music,
myths that make us bold.