All the riders on the rise
Circlers from every side
All the riders on the rise

Circlers from every side

Eyes up!

Light floods around
in a yellow shadow after night
Comes down

in a dull dumb swipe.
And all's white


Fire painting on the pines
And hawks above the timber-line
Water weeping from the ice


Fire painting on the pines
And hawks above the timber-line

Water weeping from the ice

Heat is lost

Winter rocks into a lonely boxwood grove
And quiet snowfall
Smothers all of the lawns

Where the ladies coughed and cried,
"I don't want to be there when it's time!"


The dying stag is on his side
The hunters are hiding, up on high
The wind is beating through the briars

The wind is beating through the briars

The dying stag is on his side

The hunters are hiding, up on high
The wind is beating through the briars
The wind is beating through the briars


Waves on the graves of the saints
Dull grey as the sea pushes land away

Dull ache when you wake
Grey smoke shows the way you walk
down by when it's time


I don't want to be there when it's time
To go down, down

I don't want to go down there alone
Down down
I don't want to go down there alone


Down down down down
Down down down down

Down down
Down down
Down down

Down down
Ooh