St. Stephen

Lyrics By: Robert Hunter Music By: Jerry Garcia/Phil Lesh

Saint Stephen with a rose In and out of the garden he goes Country garland in the wind and the rain Wherever he goes the people all complain

Stephen prosper 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 half way twixt now and then Stephen fill it up and lower down, and lower down again

Lady finger, dipped in moonlight Writing "What for?" across the morning sky Sunlight splatters dawn with answers Darkness shrugs and bids the day goodbye

Speeding arrow, sharp and narrow What a lot of fleeting matters you have spurned Several seasons with their treasons Wrap the babe in scarlet colours, call it your own

Did he doubt or did he try? Answers a-plenty in the by and by Talk about your plenty, talk about your ills One man gathers what another man spills

Saint Stephen will remain All he's lost he shall regain Seashore washed by the suds and the foam Been here so long he's got to calling it home

Fortune comes a-crawling, Calliope woman Spinning that curious sense of your own Can you answer? Yes I can But what would be the answer to the answer man?

-(William Tell Bridge)- High green chilly winds and windy vines in loops Around the twined shafts of lavender They're crawling to the sun

Underfoot the ground is patched With climbing arms of ivy wrapped Around the manzanita stark and shiny in the breeze

Wonder who will water all the children of the garden When they sigh about the barren lack Of rain and droop so hungry 'neath the sky

William Tell has stretched his bow Till it won't stretch no furthermore And/or it will require a change that hasn't come before