Barrow Ballad

1 February 2015

O Harold, O Harold
come trundle your barrow
the world runs away like a wheel
and whatever you see
is whatever you saw
and the barrow is full don’t you feel

It’s breaking it’s broken
I’m taking a token
the world runs wherever it will
and whatever you say
is whatever you’ll sigh
and the sorrow sinks under the sill

Beloved, believe it
what we have received, it
will wind itself down in a wail
and whatever we sought
will be covered in soot
and the bills blow away with the mail

My anger, my hunger
won’t grow any younger
the world wears a stitch in its side
and whatever you sow
is whatever you owe
and the harrow comes dragging behind

O Harold, O Harold
come trundle your barrow
the world runs away like a wheel
and whatever you see
is whatever you saw
and the barrow is full don’t you feel

It deepens it darkens
and nobody harkens
the world tumbles down in the well
where it mars and it mends
oh the world never ends
all the store of the stories to tell

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