Come see pioneers starving on trout
Meet the drunkards of spirit,
of soil, of stout
But old silent fires
shall someday bathe all
A cider ferments in us all
Final call!
Hear the prophets
whose days have gone dim
And for all royal silver,
she still won?t wed him
Hear the bastards,
yes among us, they go
All flaunting freedoms
so scarcely known
How I see, merrily,
The unmasking of liberty
As she bows to misery,
But her open hands,
The joy and dance
And this pattern
across our great quilt,
for ages to span
You?re a traveller packing for years
Armour of rage in a shower of tears
And you never could see
that you were wild and loose
?Til a baby blue soldier
forbid you to choose
Now you cry, ?Off with these systems
And off with these laws!
Bring on the seasons,
tradition, and song!
The patterns and cycles!
We, hitchers of stars,
shall reel in adventure
To shatter these boards
To march from these wars
How I see, merrily,
The unmasking of liberty
As she bows to misery,
But her open hands,
The joy and dance
And this pattern
across our great quilt,
for ages to span
But her open hands,
the joy and dance
And this pattern
across our great quilt
For ages to span