THE ROAD TO BARCELONA

25 August 1936 Felicia Browne was killed in action during the Spanish Civil War, on the Aragón front near Tardienta, while part of a band of raiders attempting to dynamite a Nationalist munitions train. She was the first British volunteer to die in the Spanish Civil War.

The Road To Barcelona Words and music by Patrick Dexter Vocal by Eilís Dexter https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0ki_HNVqKk
Felicia Browne from Wikipedia    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Felicia_Browne
Felicia Browne from Spartacus Educational     https://spartacus-educational.com/WbrowneF.htm

(N.B.)Her name was Felicia not Felicity as sung in the YouTube recording.

Oh the sweet sound of the guitar
Play on comrade, play on!
Let the music flow like this cheap wine in my cup
while I sit here in my reverie
Every strum draws my mind back
to that journey we took together
We packed the car and set
off on the boat to France
Passion and ideas were our potion

We sipped fine wine,
You and I As Eagles soared way up high
The snow capped mountains in our rearview mirror.
In café’s, through cobbled streets
We shared our passions and our dreams
Oh how I miss that sweet aroma
On the Road to Barcelona

Seized upon our chance
Became volunteers at last
war for us, hell to those who doubt our gender
My dearest friend Felicity
you always had one up on me
Debating the world’s changes that were stirring
“Anything is possible” you kept declaring
You were going to change the world miss Browne
Through vineyards and sweet smelling flower fields
As we drove through sunshine with the rooftop down

We sipped fine wine,
You and I
As Eagles soared way up high
The snow capped mountains in our rearview mirror.
In café’s, through cobbled streets
We shared our passions and our dreams
Oh how I miss that sweet aroma
Of the Road to Barcelona

Now I am old
I drink bad wine here all alone
My thoughts a drift in this muddy river
But what good is sweet reverie
When you are gone, all is left is this memory
I long to be back again
the times we had there my dear friend
But with the wind in our hair our ideals took over
You died for your beliefs, a martyr for your dreams
all I can do now is sit here and remember

Sipping wine, as Eagles fly
high above the snow capped mountains
The Basque sunrise in our rearview mirror.
In café’s on cobbled streets
sharing our passions and our dreams
Oh how I miss that sweet aroma
On the Road to Barcelona

And I miss you dear Felicity
and the time we had
On the Road to Barcelona