| Song | Saint Stephen |
| Artist | Grateful Dead |
| Album | Two from the Vault [live] |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Garcia, Hunter, Lesh | |
| Saint stephen with a rose, in and out of the garden he goes, | |
| Country garden in the wind and the rain, | |
| Wherever he goes the people all complain. | |
| Stephen prospered in his time, well he may and he may decline. | |
| Did it matter, does it now? stephen would answer if he only knew how. | |
| Wishing well with a golden bell, bucket hanging clear to hell, | |
| Hell halfway twixt now and then, | |
| Stephen fill it up and lower down and lower down again. | |
| Lady finger, dipped in moonlight, writing "what for?" across the morning sky. | |
| Sunlight splatters, dawn with answer, darkness shrugs and bids the day good-bye. | |
| Speeding arrow, sharp and narrow, | |
| What a lot of fleeting matters you have spurned. | |
| Several seasons with their treasons, | |
| Wrap the babe in scarlet colors, call it your own. | |
| Did he doubt or did he try? answers aplenty in the bye and bye, | |
| Talk about your plenty, talk about your ills, | |
| One man gathers what another man spills. | |
| Saint stephen will remain, all he's lost he shall regain, | |
| Seashore washed by the suds and foam, | |
| Been here so long, he's got to calling it home. | |
| Fortune comes a crawlin', calliope woman, spinnin' that curious sense of your own. | |
| Can you answer? yes i can. but what would be the answer to the answer man? |
| zuo ci : Garcia, Hunter, Lesh | |
| Saint stephen with a rose, in and out of the garden he goes, | |
| Country garden in the wind and the rain, | |
| Wherever he goes the people all complain. | |
| Stephen prospered in his time, well he may and he may decline. | |
| Did it matter, does it now? stephen would answer if he only knew how. | |
| Wishing well with a golden bell, bucket hanging clear to hell, | |
| Hell halfway twixt now and then, | |
| Stephen fill it up and lower down and lower down again. | |
| Lady finger, dipped in moonlight, writing " what for?" across the morning sky. | |
| Sunlight splatters, dawn with answer, darkness shrugs and bids the day goodbye. | |
| Speeding arrow, sharp and narrow, | |
| What a lot of fleeting matters you have spurned. | |
| Several seasons with their treasons, | |
| Wrap the babe in scarlet colors, call it your own. | |
| Did he doubt or did he try? answers aplenty in the bye and bye, | |
| Talk about your plenty, talk about your ills, | |
| One man gathers what another man spills. | |
| Saint stephen will remain, all he' s lost he shall regain, | |
| Seashore washed by the suds and foam, | |
| Been here so long, he' s got to calling it home. | |
| Fortune comes a crawlin', calliope woman, spinnin' that curious sense of your own. | |
| Can you answer? yes i can. but what would be the answer to the answer man? |
| zuò cí : Garcia, Hunter, Lesh | |
| Saint stephen with a rose, in and out of the garden he goes, | |
| Country garden in the wind and the rain, | |
| Wherever he goes the people all complain. | |
| Stephen prospered in his time, well he may and he may decline. | |
| Did it matter, does it now? stephen would answer if he only knew how. | |
| Wishing well with a golden bell, bucket hanging clear to hell, | |
| Hell halfway twixt now and then, | |
| Stephen fill it up and lower down and lower down again. | |
| Lady finger, dipped in moonlight, writing " what for?" across the morning sky. | |
| Sunlight splatters, dawn with answer, darkness shrugs and bids the day goodbye. | |
| Speeding arrow, sharp and narrow, | |
| What a lot of fleeting matters you have spurned. | |
| Several seasons with their treasons, | |
| Wrap the babe in scarlet colors, call it your own. | |
| Did he doubt or did he try? answers aplenty in the bye and bye, | |
| Talk about your plenty, talk about your ills, | |
| One man gathers what another man spills. | |
| Saint stephen will remain, all he' s lost he shall regain, | |
| Seashore washed by the suds and foam, | |
| Been here so long, he' s got to calling it home. | |
| Fortune comes a crawlin', calliope woman, spinnin' that curious sense of your own. | |
| Can you answer? yes i can. but what would be the answer to the answer man? |