Night Pilgrims Lyrics

The words are straining to rise

Wash away the clay and take up wings

Like little quail in the grassy field

Yet my arrow readies on the string

Shoot em down shoot em down

Shoot em with the mother bird

For the husband detests poetry

And all its ebbing flowing words

Like water rushing through the valley

Cutting channels smoothing stone

The torrents of Euphrates sing

Flowing down on driest bones

Alas I dammed it brick by brick

To block the river by my hand

Yet nature dammed it stick by stick

And brought it round to me again

And now I see that moss is called a bed

Because mother made it for the pilgrims head

Yet its just moss

And Im just tired

And sun is lost

To moons desire

A little sleep

A little slumber

A little dream

A little wonder

Drink it deep my nighttime pilgrim kid