On a bench in the park beneath a scarlet glow
Spend every night in the company of ghosts
The guests all depart at the end of the show
Leave you with the things that you wish you could leave the most

Over mountain passes, through valleys and hills
Far from the furnaces of dark and distant mills
Shadows shrink back from kerosene lamps
Down cobblestone paths to caravan camps

A lady wreathed in gold, two raised wands in her hands
Calls for her children across the shadow covered lands
The eagle descends from a crack in the sky
Down to the mist-wrought towns where dreams go to die