Over my head
My falcon has set his eyes west
But just as I said
What beast would be out in this wet?
And what could it want?
We've fashioned our lives into debts
Just tinkers and tailors
And women with tarot card heads
And we take to the street
When the weather turns grey
Casting off signs to the tune of our pay
To market, to market, to cast it in clay
Home again, home, what a waste of a day
Oh dear, take more, there's plenty left
Don't fret, don't mind the door
It knocks, it only knocks
Just blight me with wine
And study the evening's progress
Old Tom and his friends
Have all found a new tenet to test
And when you awake
Don't ask if there's more to be done
Old Tom and his friends
Won't rise til we've buried the sun
But tell me then, tell me
What else have I lost?
Have I made me a groom
To the bride of sunk cost?
Bygones be bygones, be my wrong to right
I'll make me a man by the end of the night
Oh dear, the fish, could you pass it down?
A pound for a pound of lard
It's hard, but I've made my bed
But I'll lay me down before I'm dead
A bridge above their bobbing heads
To gibe and tease the price bread
And I'll lay me down before I'm dead
My heart still pounds
Is this the all-coveted blood?
The soft light sound
Of fire and winter and flood?
Oh, it's late, my friend, I should make my way
And tend to the budding may
There's rain, I'll make my way