I'll pour a cup to you my darling, raise it up, say Cheerio.
Give us Direction; the best of goodwill; Put us in touch with fair winds. Sing to us softly, hum the evening's song. Tell us what the blacksmith has done for you.
The doer and the thinker, no allowances for the other, as the failing light illuminates the mercenaries creed.
Everyone's saved, we're in the grave. See you there for afternoon tea.
Who would be a poor man, a beggar man, a thief, if he held a rich man in his hand?
Ages passed I knew at last my life had never been.