2. Aboriginal Angel

05:41
Michael Dyer
0000-00-00

Story

I've enjoyed playing the didgeridoo over the years and I wanted to be able to play it in a song as a lead instrument, so I wrote a song in which that would make sense.

Lyrics

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ABORIGINAL ANGEL Michael Dyer © 2006 I dreamt I fell for, an aboriginal angel. On a cloudless night, she was pursued, by a brood of devils from hell. My aboriginal angel. With a broken wing, in my dream, to me, oh, did she cling. We had a thing, a night-time fling. My aboriginal angel. We hid in a cave, with some stone-age paintings of ancient waves. The looks that she gave and how she behaved, made me so bold and so brave. In the back of the cave I started a blaze, with hours of dreaming that passed for days. With hours of loving that encircled us, like an endless, endless maze. She had her ways, her dream-catcher ways. And I was crazed, with a craving that stays. My aboriginal angel. She didn’t carry a harp. She found its sound too high and too sharp. She carried two didgeridoos, in the key of C and in the key of E. She played stone-age rock ‘n’ blues, on those two didgeridoos. Oh, she played stone-age rock ‘n’ blues, on those didgeridoos. With notes so wild and low, how low do they go? They buzzed and they droned. They shivered and they groaned. They trembled and they moaned. Flowed right through my bones. They buzzed and they droned. They shivered and they groaned. They trembled and they moaned. Flowed right through my bones. When my dream broke and, finally, I awoke. This ain’t no joke but in plain view, there stood one didgeridoo. With pictograms I knew that she drew, to tell me: “This didg, I left for you.” My aboriginal angel. On cloudless nights I light a blaze; now dream of her lovin’ ways. Learning to play, stone-age rock and blues, on her didgeridoo. My aboriginal angel. She didn’t carry a harp. She found its sound too high and too sharp. She carried two didgeridoos, in the key of C and in the key of E. She played stone-age rock ‘n’ blues, on those two didgeridoos. She played stone-age rock ‘n’ blues, on those didgeridoos. With notes so wild and low, how low do they go? They buzzed and they droned. They shivered and they groaned. They trembled and they moaned. Flowed right through my bones. They buzzed and they droned. They shivered and they groaned. They trembled and they moaned. Flowed right through my bones. My aboriginal baby, gave me the key. My aboriginal baby, set me free. With notes so wild and low, how low do they go? They buzzed and they droned. They shivered and they groaned. They trembled and they moaned. Flowed right through my bones. They buzzed and they droned. They shivered and they groaned. They trembled and they moaned. Flowed right through my bones.

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