| May I make my fond excuses for the late-ness of the hour;
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| But we accept your invitation, and would bring you Beltane’s flower.
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| For the May Day is the great day, sung along the old straight track.
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| And those who ancient lines did ley will heed this song that calls them
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| back.
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| Pass the word and pass the lady and pass the plate to all who hunger.
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| And pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder.
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| And pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder.
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| Ask the Green Man where he comes from, ask the cup that fills with red.
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| Ask the old grey standing stones who show the sun his way to bed.
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| Question all as to their ways, and learn the secrets that they hold.
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| Walk the lines of Nature’s palm, crossed with silver and with gold.
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| Pass the cup and pass the lady and pass the plate to all who hunger.
|
| And pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder.
|
| And pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder.
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| Join in black December’s sadness, lie in August’s welcome corn.
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| Stir the cup that’s ever filling with the blood of all that’s born.
|
| But the May Day is the great day, sung along the old straight track.
|
| And those who ancient lines did ley will heed this song that calls them
|
| Back.
|
| Pass the word and pass the lady and pass the plate to all who hunger.
|
| And pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder.
|
| And pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder. |