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There's a liEmght in the hCouseD in the wood in thEme valley.
There's a thCought in theB7 head of the Amman.
Who carrEmies his dreaCms lDike the coat slung on his shEmoulder,
Bringing you lCove in the cB7ap in his hanAmd.
And each step he takes is one half of a lifetime:
no word he would say could you understand.
So he bundles his regrets into a gesture of sorrow,
Bringing you love cap in hand.
Catching breath as he looks through the dining-room window:
candle lit table for two has been laid.
Strange slippers by the fire.
Strange boots in the hallway.
Put my cap on my head.
I turn and walk away.
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