Composed by Stan Rogers | © Fogarty's Cove Music
I used to be a Pharisee
Cynical and wise, telling rich ungodly lies of humanity
But in the market place was seated a cripple with a lyre
I looked at him and said "I've been rich but so unhappy, what set's your soul on fire?"
He said "Look upon me brother, I am a man with piece of mind
I know I never was much good at nothing but the words I wrought and rhyme
But I've a good woman to feed me and friends to share a brew
And evenings we would sit around and sing together and it can be the same for you"
Just hold on, To young friends you made of old
And cleave to the woman who keeps us whole
Keep a warm fire for all your friends who come in from the cold
Love them all as brothers and don't have to know their names
For you it might be different but for us it always stays the same
Tonight the smoke is rising from all around the room
And judging from the warmth and smells from the kitchen there'll be supper ready soon
And our table's set for twenty, room for more if they should come
And later on we'll pass around the pipe for our pleasure and sit and take a little rum