In the springtime I walked on down into the valley and rested on old Ebor Bridge, from there I would wait for a glimpse of the girl who lived up on Catclough, the cottage and ridge, then one evening in summertime there she sat waiting, waiting on old Ebor Bridge, she asked me to kiss her and held herself to me, we watched the white swans slowly glide on the river below, she had eyes of warmest 'hazel', skin as pure as the snow and her hair as soft and silken, as I would ever know in the wake of the winter with the dam frozen over, she ran to me calling my name, she said “As I grow older my heart's growing colder and I can't seem to love you the same” now that years have passed by I'm still questioning why our emotions can turn with the fall, we surrender our dreams and how sad that it seems, at the hands of the faithless we reach for the blackening sky.
© 1997 Lyrics by N.Thomas. All rights reserved.