The painted face of evening
shrouds the sleeping day
voices in the twilight, murmur low
The trees that lean toward the sky
shake their weathered bones
and timeless magic lingers here
among the ring of stones.
Like circles on the water
beneath the rising moon
a churchbell tolls the fading notes of time
a fallen king of long ago
sleeps the years alone
and a night wind hums a requiem
among the ring of stones
And down a stairway to Valhallah
it's steps of burning gold
and a servant of a lifetime by his side
with a dagger and a coat of steel
to see him on his way, on his way
Dianna sails her sea of cloud
above her silver bowl
the spirits of the darkness fill the air
and me I'm just a travellin' boy
so many miles from home
and they say the devil, walks the road
beneath the ring of stones