Take It Handy

Take it handy, my old friend, ours is not to reason why 
Who knows when we’ll meet again underneath this wild sky 
We cannot shape the wind, but study it we can 
Take it handy, my dear friend, everywhere and everywhen 

The road ahead is shorter now than the road behind 
May those treasures serve you well that you’ve laid up in your mind 
May all you meet along the way be open to your song 
Take it handy, my good friend, you’ve never done me wrong 

The crows came for Cicero 
At the end he had no friends 
They chopped his head, they chopped his hands  
And hung them up for everybody to know – Cicero, Cicero, oh, Cicero! 
 
Remember how we tired the sun with our talking, you and I 
And how we gave those stars a run, sent them all down the sky 
And on those playing fields of green they couldn’t slow us down 
Take it handy, my good friend, our curtain’s coming down
Take it handy, sweet old friend, what I’d give for one more round 

Cicero, Cicero, oh, Cicero!