Put the kettle on the stove
Throw the shutters
Stir the coals!
Light the lamps
and leave the door ajar:
we don’t know who’s coming…

Here’s the China and the wooden-ware.
Set it ‘round the table (there)
scattered indifferently:
We don’t know who’s coming down.
We don’t know who’s coming.

Set the table!
(You got this darlin)
It a meal for the Plentiful,
a meal for the Starving.
It a table set for when
Grace comes knocking -
you can seat her at the head
with Patience to her left
and say:

“Fill your plates with my sight
and the first rains of fall.
I will give you my hands.
Take a drink from the cup
that I bore through the Labyrinth,
I give you the Red Thread-
my heart ever more.
And I’ll feed you,
Feed you all.
Yes I’ll feed you,
I’ll feed you.
I’ll feed you all.”

Pass the salt and pass the keys.
Sorrow came in on her knees;
hand her a towel she’s soaked to the bone.
After her in disarray,
Passion sat across from Rage;
feed him your hair,
and the sound of pounding hooves.

Set the table!
(You got this darlin)
It a meal for the Plentiful,
a meal for the Starving.
It a table set for when
Grace comes knocking -
you can seat her at the head
with Patience to her left
and say:

“Fill your plates with my sight,
the first rains of fall.
I will give you my hands.
Take a drink from the cup that I bore
through the Labyrinth,
I give you the Red Thread-
my heart ever more.
Fill you plates with the fruits
of my chisel and stone.
I will feed you my truth.
Friends, your welcome to
take what you need
through the Labyrinth.
I feed you my heart
to ensure when you leave,
you leave this table full.
Yes, you leave, you leave this table full.”