By Al Stewart



I sat upon the evening hill

the shadows set

the night grew still

And as I sat guitar on knee

a voice of flowers called to me



sing, sing to me your song

sing, for I belong to the night

In the grey morning light I'll be gone



I turned with eyes that strained for sight

and there amid the failing light

dimly saw a figure small

heard a voice of magic call



sing, sing to me your song

sing, for I belong to the night

In the grey morning light I'll be gone



My fumbling fingers found the chords

My trembleing lips fought for the words

I stopped to ask the stranger how

He softly said no questions now



sing, sing to me your song

sing, for I belong to the night

In the grey morning light I'll be gone



Then with the magic of the elves

My fingers danced among themselves

A heart with lightness thus endowed

Formed melodies I know not how



Song played the whole night long

Thus he danced and laughed through the night

and with grey morning light he was gone



Now the whispering wind plays o'r the hill

And the evening sounds again grow still

A year or more has passed since then

Oh, he will not pass my way again



So I sing, sing to you my song

Sing for I belong to the night

In the grey morning light I'll be gone



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