There’s an Alchemist living is the West Country
Near a hill with a lonely tree,
His orchards spill past the lone tree hill,
As far as the eye can see.
There’s an Alchemist living on a lay line,
Drawing its every charm,
And to his still in the Autumn fill
With a liquid gold, a magic of old,
And you’ll fall to his chemical balm.
There’s an Alchemist living on a magic farm
With a beautiful ageless wife,
They tend their sheep and fall asleep
‘Neath the beams of an ancient cider keep,
There’s an Alchemist living in Somerset,
For a thousand years of more
From the crushing blows the cider flows
Off the press by the lone tree hill.
There’s an Alchemist caught in a rainbow
His light on the other side;
I see the blossom and hear the cry,
Of the apple pickers as the day goes by,
Near to the lone tree hill.
There’s an Alchemist living in Kingsbury,
You can taste his molten soul,
You can drink his health,
Which has given him wealth,
Which has turned his apples to gold.