How often she has gazed
|
from castle windows o'er
|
And watched the daylight
|
passing within her captive wall
|
With no-one to heed her call
|
<Interlude>
|
The evening hour is fading
|
within the dwindling sun
|
And in a lonely moment
|
those embers will be gone
|
And the last of all
|
the young birds flown
|
<Interlude>
|
Her days of precious freedom
|
forfeited long before
|
To live such fruitless years
|
behind a guarded door
|
But those days will last no more
|
<Interlude>
|
Tomorrow at this hour
|
she will be far away
|
Much farther than these islands
|
Or the lonely Fotheringay
|
|
-----------------
|
FOTHERINGAY
|
| Fairport Convention |
