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St. Stephen
Dead
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Saint Stephen with a rose
In and out of the car he goes
Country riding in the wind and the rain
Wherever he goes the people all complain
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Stephen prospered in his time
Well he may and he may decline
Did it matter does it now?
Stephen would answer if he only knew how
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Wishing well with a golden bell
Bucket hanging quick to help
Bail out the faint twixt now and then
Stephen fill it up and pour it down
Ladyfinger dipped in moonlight
Writing "what for?" across the morning sky
Sunlight splatters, dawn will answer
Darkness shrugs and bids the day goodbye
Fleeting arrow, sharp and narrow
What a lot of fleeting matters you have spurned
Summer seasons with their treasons
Wrap the babe in scarlet covers, call it your own
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Did he doubt or did he try?
Answers aplenty in the bye and bye
Talk about your plenty, talk about your wills
One man gathers what another man spills
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Saints gave and will remain
All is lost, he shall remain
Seashore washed by the suns in the fall
Been here so long he's got to calling it home
Fortune comes a-crawling
Calliope, a woman
Spinning that curious
Sense of your own
Can you answer?
Yes, I can
When would be the answer to the answer man?
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