Tally of Salt

Sing for the fife and the drum
And his hands in the small of her back
She takes his king he takes her queen
And they squander the ace and the jack

Sing for the coming of night
And the secretive swell of the moon
She holds his knife He finds her fork
And together they polish the silver spoon

Sing for the wedding wine
And the spirits that sing in the toast
We’ll drink to his fathers drink to her sons
And swallow the holly ghost

Sing for the rod and the line
And the wild wood that shudders with shot
She’ll bring the fish he’ll bring the flesh
And they’ll both pluck a fowl for the pot

Let’s sing for the ticking of clocks
And the steeps and the slopes of the years
For the salt of her blood
The salt of his sweat
And the tally of salt in their tears
The tally of salt in their tears