St. Stephen [Live at Fillmore West February 28, 1969]

Wishing well with a golden bell, bucket hanging clear to hell,
Hell halfway 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 answer,
darkness shrugs and bids the day good-bye.

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

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

Saint stephen will remain, all hes lost he shall regain,
Seashore washed by the suds and foam,
Been here so long, hes got to calling it home.

Fortune comes a crawlin, calliope woman,
spinnin that curious sense of your own.
Can you answer? Yes I can
But what would be the answer to the answer man?
Going where the wind goes
Blooming like a red rose breathing more freely

Ride our singin'
I'll walk you in the morning sunshine
Sunshine, daydream, sunshine, daydream
Walking in the sunshine