The Glass-Spinners

               
The fire-O, the fire-O,
     Come gather 'round the fire-O!
And spin your breath into the glowing form
     That's born within the fire-O!

The sand-O, the sand-O,
     Come gather up the sand-O!
And spin your breath into the glowing form
     Transfigured from the sand-O!

And can you mend this glass guitar
     that broke beneath a demon beat?
Can you spin anew the crystal
     strings that melted in the heat?

Can you mend this thing of glass
     within the kiln from whence it came?
And can you draw again a voice
     of water from a twisting flame?

The fire-O, the fire-O,
     Come gather 'round the fire-O!
And spin your breath into the glowing form
     That's born within the fire-O!

Six times they plunged it in the fire
     and six times cast their nets about,
And yet no vessel of fine music
     could the spinners e'er draw out.

Six times they plunged it in the fire
     and six times spoke the solemn word
Six times the molten glass within the flames
     had formed into a sword

The sand-O, the sand-O,
     Come gather up the sand-O!
And spin your breath into the glowing form
     Transfigured from the sand-O!

O bring your foreman here to me;
     I'll kick his sorry ass-O!
My guitar case is no fit keeping place
     for a sword that's made of glass-O!