The Byrds - The Byrds

Spanish Harlem Incident

Gypsy gal, the hands of Harlem
Cannot hold you to its heat
Your temperature's too hot for tamin'
Your flaming feet are burnin' up the street

I am homeless, come and take me
Into the reach of your rattlin' drums
I gotta know, babe, all about my fortune
Down along my restless palms

Gypsy gal, you got me swallowed
I have fallen far beneath
Your pearly eyes so fast and slashing
And your flashin' diamond teeth

The night is pitch black, come and make my
Pale face fit into place, ah, please
I gotta know, babe, I'm nearly drownin'
If it's you my lifelines trace

I've been wonderin' all about me
Ever since I seen you there
On the cliffs of your wildcat charms I'm riding
I know I'm 'round you, but I don't know where

You have slayed me, you have made me
I got to laugh halfways off my heels
I gotta know, babe, will you surround me?
So I can know if I'm really real

Credits
Writer(s): Bob Dylan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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