HARD STONES
©Trev Teasdel Shilton October 1971


Sit by the coal fire so homely and warm
My cottage is my castle, my safe retreat.
Had a hard day’s hustling and now I’m so tired.


Hands drooped in pockets, the sun slouches off
With flask in hand, the moon climbs the sky
to hold his heavenly office.


Now I know what it’s like to live off the fat of my friends
And I can tell you that there’s hard stones to that road my firend
There’s hard stones to that road my friend.


Out in the wilds, it sometimes gets lonely
The room echos my sighs, but something tells me not to complain
Make use of this time, it may not always be like this.


If you want company, go to the city
You’ll find all your friends there. waiting for you.
The circus from which you escaped may catch up with you.
with tangles and torments that’s trample your mind in the turf.
And there will be harder stones to that road my friend.