| Now the Swan it floated on the English river |
| Ah the Rose of High Romance it opened wide |
| A sun tanned woman yearned me through the summer |
| And the judges watched us from the other side |
| I told my mother «Mother I must leave you |
| Preserve my room but do not shed a tear |
| Should rumour of a shabby ending reach you |
| It was half my fault and half the atmosphere» |
| But the Rose I sickened with a scarlet fever |
| And the Swan I tempted with a sense of shame |
| She said at last I was her finest lover |
| And if she withered I would be to blame |
| The judges said you missed it by a fraction |
| Rise up and brace your troops for the attack |
| Ah the dreamers ride against the men of action |
| Oh see the men of action falling back |
| But I lingered on her thighs a fatal moment |
| I kissed her lips as though I thirsted still |
| My falsity had stung me like a hornet |
| The poison sank and it paralysed my will |
| I could not move to warn all the younger soldiers |
| That they had been deserted from above |
| So on battlefields from here to Barcelona |
| I’m listed with the enemies of love |
| And long ago she said «I must be leaving, |
| Ah but keep my body here to lie upon |
| You can move it up and down and when I’m sleeping |
| Run some wire through that Rose and wind the Swan» |
| So daily I renew my idle duty |
| I touch her here and there -- I know my place |
| I kiss her open mouth and I praise her beauty |
| And people call me traitor to my face |