Beggar's Quest from Stardust County by Nancy Louise Freeman

Out of the east broke the storm, driving crows
across the fields where the corn had been piled
And the Southern lights flared and flickered
like the grief of a child
The pack was heading northward; I could hear them call,
but my feet kept moving me west
Well beggars can't be choosers,
and I'm on a beggar's quest.

Edge of Black Mesa burns a light,
ancient of stones
The keeper and the kindler came blinking into the night;
my voice was dry as bones
They offered me blood and whiskey,
saying "take the one you like best."
But I would not let their tender mercies
draw me from my beggar's quest.

The floor of the telegraph office was plastered
with old campaign flyers
And a hundred tinny voices
spilled from the severed wires
I remember eyes like thunder, a face like a lie,
and a sharp pain in my breast
That took away my reason,
and set me on this beggar's quest.

I lost the scent down by Ghost River,
where the Juggler, to my sorrow,
Told me, "you don't understand today,
but maybe you will understand tomorrow
That a man ain't nothing but a wild wolf
when his soul can't find its rest."
Well I will see my way clear come evening,
carry on my beggar's quest.

• Folk
• acoustic folk
• filk
• Oro Valley