Come you thieves, you sinners
You vagabond drifters
You wagon wheel runners
And quick-drawn gunners
Come ye tired, ye restless
Heal your sulking fleshes
Under the moonlight
In the hearth
Of a warm man's fire
Come you heathens
You whispering demons
With your scientific reasons
Tell of men in wolf's sheepskins
And theories of the latest seasons
Come ye marching men
With bayonet poised at every lurching wren
Tired and weary from the lands you cannot defend
Come to me and be
In the hearth of a warm man's fire
Come ye lost souls
You singing doles
Forget your curious morals
For a morsel
In the hearth of a warm man's fire
Come ye thinking folk
Drink and laugh and take a smoke
Use intellect and be intellectual
And question all that's ever questionable
Come ye friends of the dark
And sing like larks
And oh, listen, hark
The crackling flame
A warm man's flame
Blinding in the dark
Bind me to it
And come ye tired souls
To a warm man's hearth