Ballad of a Faithful

They were told that the sun would shine On those you serve the great divine But the people who taught them were all hopeless and numb And the things that they knew just swallowed all their love Well he was young when he saw it for himself In the old arm chair with declining health Well if God is good why do they all die so young With moon lit eyes and blood in their lungs, oh Just come back the day is almost done And the sick are trudging home after the sun And the vagabonds are all dancing on the grave of some old poet Margaret held her son so tight he could barely breathe As the storm blow over the roof they were underneath And she told him that it was something more Than the things that they heard outside the door Well as he moved on he never lost sight Of the wind and the rain and the things she said that night And it slowly made him sink down so deep That soon he was stuck and had nothing to keep, oh Just come back the day is almost done And the sick are trudging home after the sun And the vagabonds are all traveling on just trying to find some peace and quiet Well they knew him before his mind was sick When he held her up her up before he broke all his limbs And tore all his hair right out of his head In the middle of the night when he was turning in bed Oh he used to be something more than himself So promising and no one could tell That he hated the way that the old men sang All the words that they needed to keep them sane, oh Just come back the day is almost done And the sick are trudging home after the sun And the vagabonds are all on the run but their faces just don't show it When he disappeared they were all so surprised They never did see that there was nothing in his eyes And no one had touched his coat or his keys And no one had seen what the moon has seen Well Margaret was convinced he had just gone away And when she was asked she had nothing to say But how the sky moves along with the time And if you can't see you should open your eyes, oh Just come back the day is almost done And the sick are trudging home after the sun And the vagabonds are all moving on just trying to find a place that's quiet