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
