What would it gain me If I was to go Like Jacob of old To the well of the world To wax halls where candles Burn on through the day To light you a path So you'd never lose your way
I was down in the valley Where the shadows are long The birds in the harp tree Were singing this song There is time to deliver Time to receive All that you're lacking Of whatever you need
Turn around - by the by You'll still see the sea As it was in the dawning As it always will be
Raise up your bottles And drink down the blood You planted the vine here In spite of the flood Turn an ear to the harp tree An eye to the wall The songs in the singing Or nowhere at all
No where to come from No place to retire No shelter nowhere Except in the fire The birds in the harp tree Can finish their song Then rest in its branches Which is where they belong
But where can a man go That's sweet to his soul When his time is not ready But he's still turning old Here's a dream for the piper And a tune for his lady Outside the thin wall The waves are still raging
Here's one for the harp tree And one for his song One for the morning When the night was too long Here's one for the candle That lights you to bed And one for the sword That hangs over your head
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Copy to Clipboard: Music: David Freiberg Lyrics: Robert Hunter
What would it gain me If I was to go Like Jacob of old To the well of the world To wax halls where candles Burn on through the day To light you a path So you'd never lose your way
I was down in the valley Where the shadows are long The birds in the harp tree Were singing this song There is time to deliver Time to receive All that you're lacking Of whatever you need
Turn around - by the by You'll still see the sea As it was in the dawning As it always will be
Raise up your bottles And drink down the blood You planted the vine here In spite of the flood Turn an ear to the harp tree An eye to the wall The songs in the singing Or nowhere at all
No where to come from No place to retire No shelter nowhere Except in the fire The birds in the harp tree Can finish their song Then rest in its branches Which is where they belong
But where can a man go That's sweet to his soul When his time is not ready But he's still turning old Here's a dream for the piper And a tune for his lady Outside the thin wall The waves are still raging
Here's one for the harp tree And one for his song One for the morning When the night was too long Here's one for the candle That lights you to bed And one for the sword That hangs over your head
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