Saint Stephen with a rose In and out of the garden he goes Country garland in the wind and the rain Wherever he goes, the people all complain Stephen prospered in his time Well he may and he may decline Did it matter? Does it now? Stephen would answer if he only knew how 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 Ladyfinger dipped in moonlight Writing "What for?" across the morning sky Sunlight splatters dawn with answers Darkness shrugs and bids the day good-bye Speeding arrow, sharp and narrow Wrap the babe in scarlet covers, call it your own Can you answer? Yes I can But what would be the answer to the answer man?