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All the riders on the rise and circlers from every side. All the riders on the rise and circlers from every side. Eyes up! Light floods around in a yellow shadow after night comes down in a dull dumb swipe. And all's white. Fire painting on the pines, and hawks above the timber-line, and water weeping from the ice. Heat is lost. Winter rocks into a lonely boxwood grove. And quiet snowfall smothers all of the lawns where the ladies coughed and cried, "I don't want to be there when it's time!" The dying stag is on his side. The hunters are hiding, up on high. The wind is beating through the briars. Waves on the graves of the saints. Dull grey as the sea pushes land away. Dull ache when you wake. Grey smoke shows the way you walk Letras de cancionesdown by when it's time. I don't want to be there when it's time to go down, or I don't want to go down there alone. Down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down ooooh. From Letras Mania