|
My love has gone to Avalon, the winter here's too cold
|
As vanquished kings from Field of Fog did in their days of old
|
As she moves through chilling climes and views the ancient stones
|
I stand here on my hill alone
|
|
I did as much as I could do to bind my love to stay
|
From Lothian to Tintagel's a long and weary way
|
No warlock Celt am I to bind her fancy to my own
|
I stand here on my hill alone
|
|
My city stands full in the gaze, a proud and empty shell
|
A ruined chapel mocks the view above her barren well
|
An icy breeze from Greenland's coast denies the futile sun but
|
I stand here on my hill alone
|
|
Perhaps I'll go to Westmoreland where hills are not so high
|
Or make my way to Anglia where lowland pastures lie
|
A darkened town's no place of rest for one who saw it shine
|
I stand here on my hill alone
|
|
My love is gone to Avalon, the winter here's too cold
|
As vanquished kings from fields of fog did in their days of old
|
As she moves through chilling climes and views the ancient stones
|
I stand here on my hill alone
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Avalon
|
| Spanghopper |
