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there's is an old woman stands on top of the hill
dressed in black she awaits her dead son
she's stood there now for a hundred years
rocking to and fro until his return

RETURN

she kept a watch but he never came
and in the end life dwindled away
but in death she awaits on and on
her rocking form in the misty dawn

IN DEATH SHE AWAITS

there's is an old woman stands on top of the hill
dressed in black she awaits her dead son
she's stood there now for a hundred years
rocking to and fro until his return

RETURN

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