Hunger

Gallant is the hunter

Gallant is the sheep

Gallant is the honer of the secrets that you keep

Grievous is the fortune teller's tune that you bequeath

She fills her sorrow's sonder with the gallows of her grief

Hungry is the widow

Hungry is the farm

Hungry is the lonely lover's gallant waiting arm

Held at latitude so long to long along the way

He stands there till tomorrow standing yet another day

Hopeless is the hungry

Hopeless is the small

Hopeless is the mother lying laughing in the stall

Wayside sits her child barely walking for to crawl

Until she too is beckoned as she wanders in the hall

Tomorrow none are hopeless

Tomorrow's what we seek

Tomorrow all the hungry gather forth with forks of meat

And dig their hands in stoutly stew

To eat they'll take the heat

And as it burns their fingers, they'll feel it for a beat

And as the burning lingers, here comes the gallant feat

For bell tones buying ringers, morrow's lost in long retreat