richard dawson - the almsgiver lyrics
there’s a fair-haired lad he goes
through the market begging succour
with a pair of grey [?]
etched into a saucer
he reminds me of my own boy
lost in [?]
from the bowing legs to the mole which
sits atop his nose
daybreak finds me in my pots
coaxing out the hidden flavour
of the perch i lifted clear
from the evening river
i mend the collar and the cuffs
of an empty woollen coat
in the pocket place a mitten
from a piebald ferret sown
half a bar of tallow soap
gains me entry to the courtyard
where accused men ply their trade
awaste away the day
hungrily a scan the faces
only to be found
by the tired eyes of an old man
sleeping on the ground
“have you seen a fair-haired lad
with a mole atop his nose?”
“aye, if i am not mistook
the very same went free this morning”
how my heart goes leaping
like a hare at cloudburst
upon the revelation
to rock he is returning
hold my hand and sit you up
drink a good long draught from my cup
dip a [?]
and wrap this coat around your shoulder
take this jar of pickled herring
they’ll hear your belly groan
and light this f-ggot when you arise
to thaw your icy bones
it’s not the seven corporal acts
or the fear of purgatory
which behest me to maintain
a generous refrain
i know that if my boy were in trouble
and i were far away
i’d wish there was somebody there
to help him
to sing to this song is ever so hard
i wish that i could sing it better
now we’ve nearly reached the end
we can start to listen
again
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