When the night closes in and the wind it howls too long
And the curlew cries his long forgotten song
It is then I will run over heather moss and stone
To be with you, at the dying of the day
When the world has tried, my spirit, to break
And tomorrow is a fast flowing river to row
It is then I am drawn to the light from your window
That guides me, at the dying of the day
When the moon hangs her head in the pale winter sky
And the trees bow and bend, weary dancers to the wind
Like a lost bird calling I will run to your side
To be with you at the dying of the day
Iâ??ll be with you at the dying of the day