Grateful Dead - Saint stephen

^ESaint Stephen with^D a rose, ^AIn and out of the ^Egarden he goes, ^ECountry garden in ^Dthe wind and the rain, Wher^Aever he goes the people all complain.

^EDid Stephen prospe^Dred in his time? ^AWell he may and he^E may decline. ^EDid it matter, doe^Ds it now? S^Atephen would answer if he only knew how. ^B

^EWishing well with ^Da golden bell, ^ABucket hanging cle^Ear to hell, ^EHell halfway twixt^D now and then, S^Atephen fill it up and lower down and lower down again.

^ELady finger^D, ^Adipped in moon^Elight, ^DWriting "What for?"^A across the ^Emorning sky. ^{D E}Sunlight splatters^D, ^Adawn with ans^Ewer, ^DDarkness shrugs and ^Abids the day good^Ebye.^{D E}Speeding arrow^D, ^Asharp and narr^Eow, ^DWhat a lot of ^Afleeting matters ^Eyou have spurned.^{D E}Several seasons^{D A}with their trea^Esons, ^DWrap the babe in ^Ascarlet colors, ^Ecall it your ^Down.

^EDid he doubt or di^Dd he try? ^AAnswers aplenty in^E the bye and bye, ^ETalk about your pl^Denty, talk about your ills, ^AOne man gathers what another man spills.

^ESaint Stephen will^D remain, ^AAll he's lost he s^Ehall regain, ^ESeashore washed by^D the suds and foam, B^Aeen here so long, he's got to calling it home. ^B

^EFortune comes a crawlin', calliope woman, ^DSpinnin' that curious ^Asense of your ^Eown. ^ECan you answer? Yes I ^Dcan. But ^Awhat would be the answer to the ^Eans^Dwer m^Ean?