The Supplicants Lullaby Lyrics

Feed the beggar man
Oh give him what you can
He's at your door
Making supplication pleas

His story it isn't so strange, more likely that it is all too familiar
Exiled and cut adrift at sea and he knows he'll never reach back to the centre

Take the old mother's hand
It's gnarled and desperate
Kiss her brow at the end
She's lost all her children to war

Her tale is not simply one of woe, it's the short prose you wrote at school
And you held her then, so why not now when you've both grown younger?

Taste the hermit's malt
Thirty years, yet un-open
Toast the passing dawn
Like all light so fleeting

No emptiness behind his smile; he keeps his faith deep within the heart
So rest, close your eyes and I'll be by your side ‘til morning