Mercy Of The Fallen
Oh my fair North Star
I have held to you dearly
I had asked you to steer me
'Til one cloud-scattered night
I got lost in my travels
I met Leo the lion
Met a king and met a giant
With their errant light
There's the wind and the rain
And the mercy of the fallen
Who say they have no claim to know what's right
There's the weak and the strong
And the beds that have no answer
And that's where I may rest my head tonight
I saw all the bright people
In imposing flocks they landed
And they got what they demanded
And they scratched at the ground
Then they flew
And the field grew as sweetly for the flightless
Who had longing yet despite this
They could hear every sound
There's the wind and the rain
And the mercy of the fallen
Who say they have no claim to know what's right
And if your sister or your brother
Were stumbling on their last mile
In a self-inflicted exile
You'd wish for them a humble friend
And I hope someday
That the best of Falstaff's planners
Give me seven half-built manors
Where half dreams may dream without end
There's the wind and the rain
And the mercy of the fallen
Who say hey it's not my place to know what's right
There's the weak and the strong
And the many stars that guide us
We have some of them inside us
I have held to you dearly
I had asked you to steer me
'Til one cloud-scattered night
I got lost in my travels
I met Leo the lion
Met a king and met a giant
With their errant light
There's the wind and the rain
And the mercy of the fallen
Who say they have no claim to know what's right
There's the weak and the strong
And the beds that have no answer
And that's where I may rest my head tonight
I saw all the bright people
In imposing flocks they landed
And they got what they demanded
And they scratched at the ground
Then they flew
And the field grew as sweetly for the flightless
Who had longing yet despite this
They could hear every sound
There's the wind and the rain
And the mercy of the fallen
Who say they have no claim to know what's right
And if your sister or your brother
Were stumbling on their last mile
In a self-inflicted exile
You'd wish for them a humble friend
And I hope someday
That the best of Falstaff's planners
Give me seven half-built manors
Where half dreams may dream without end
There's the wind and the rain
And the mercy of the fallen
Who say hey it's not my place to know what's right
There's the weak and the strong
And the many stars that guide us
We have some of them inside us