The Saint #19: St. Stephen
Stephen
Country garden in the wind and the rain, wherever he goes the people all complain, 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
Wishing well with a golden bell, bucket hanging clear to hell, Hell halfway twixt now and then, Stephen fill it up and lower down and lower down again, lady finger, dipped in moonlight, writing what for?
Beyond the morning sky. Sunlight splatters, dawn with answer,
Darkness shrugs and bids a day good-bye
Yes for
Speeding arrow, sharp and narrow, What a lot of fleeting matters you have spurned. Several seasons of their treasons, Wrap the babe in scarlet colors, call for your own.
Did he doubt or did he try? Answers aplenty in the bye and bye, Talk about your plenty, talk about your ills, One man gathers what another man spills. Saint Stephen will remain, all you lost he shall regain, Seashore washed by the suds and foam, Been here so long, got to calling it home.
Stephen
Fortune comes a crawlin, calliope woman, Spinnin that curious sense of your own. Can you answer? Yes I can But what would be the answer to the answer man?
One man gathers what another man spills. Saint Stephen will remain, all you lost he shall regain,
Saint Stephen will remain, all you lost he shall regain,
But what would be the answer to the answer man?