An isle, a bright shining isle

stands forever, alone in the sea

Of rock and of sand and grass

and shale, the isle bereft of trees.



- Small. A speck in the wide blue

sea. 'Tis the last of all the land.

A dweller upon our lonesome

isle, the last, lonely man? -



By the Gods he is there to

never leave, to remain all his

life. His punishment for

evermore, to attend the

eternal light.



The lighthouse, tall and brilliant

white, which stands at the end

of the world. Protecting ships

and sailors too, from rock they

could be hurled



Yet nothing comes and nothing

goes 'sept the bright blue sea.

Which stretches near and far

away, 't is all our man can see.



Though, one day, up high on

rock, a bird did perch and cry.

An albatross, he shot a glance,

and wondered deeply, why?



Could it be a watcher sent?

A curse sent from the Gods,

who sits and cries and stares at him,

the life that they have robbed.



Each year it comes to watch

over him, the creature from above.

Not a curse but a reminder of

the woman that he loved.



- Oh weary night, under stars,

he'd lay and gaze.

Up towards the moon and stars.

The suns dying haze.



Time and again, Orion's light

filled our man with joy.

Within the belt, he'd see his love,

remembering her voice -



The twinkle from the stars above

bled peace into his heart

As long as she looks down on him

he knows they'll never part



One day good, one day bad

The madness, the heat, the sun,

Out to sea, he spies upon land.

His beloved Albion.



Cliffs of white and trees of green

Children run and play,

'My home land' he cries and weeps,

why so far away?



Eyes sore and red. Filled with tears,

he runs towards the sea.

To risk his life, a worthy cause,

for home he would be.



Into the sea, deep and blue,

the waters wash him clean.

Awake. He screams. Cold with sweat.

And Albion a dream.



- Such is life upon the isle,

of torment and woe.

One day good. One day bad.

And some days, even hope.



The light at the end of the world

burns bright for mile and mile

Yet tends the man, its golden glow,

in misery all the while?



For fifty years he stands and waits,

atop the light, alone.

Looking down upon his isle

the Gods have made his home -



The watcher at the end of the world

through misery does defile.

Remembers back to that single night

and allows a tiny smile.



(His sacrifice was not so great,

he insists upon the world.

Again he would crime,

Again he would pay,

for one moment with the girl)



Her hair, long and black it shone,

The dark, beauty of her eyes,

Olive skin and warm embrace,

her memory never dies.



'Twas years ago, he

remembers clear

the life they once did live.

Endless love and lust for life,

they promised each would give.



Alas, such love and laughter too,

was short as panting breath

For one dark night, her soul

was kissed

by the shade of death.



(Agony, like none before,

was suffered by our man.)

who tends the light now

burning bright

on the very last of land.



(Anger raged and misery too

like nothing ever before.)

He cursed the Gods and man

and life,

and at his heart he tore.



- A deity felt sympathy

and threw our man a light

'Your woman you may see again,

for a single night. -



But think hard and well young man,

there is a price to pay:

to tend the light at the end of

the world

is where you must stay.



Away from man and life and love.

Alone you will be.

On a tiny isle. A bright shining isle

in the middle of the sea.'



- 'I'll tend the light, for one more night

with the woman whom I love',

screamed the man, with tearful eyes,

to the deity above.



And so it was that very night

his lover did return.

To his arms and to their bed,

together they did turn.



In deepest love and lust and passion

entwined they did fall.

Lost within each other's arms

they danced (in lover's ball). -



- Long was the night filled with love.

For them the world was done.

Awoke he did to brightest light,

his woman and life had gone.



To his feet he leapt. To the sea he looked.

To the lighthouse on the stone.

The price is paid and from now on

he lives forever alone.



Fifty years have passed since then

and not a soul has he seen.

but his woman lives with him still

in every single dream.



'Tis sad to hear how young love has died

to know that, alone, someone has cried.

but memories are ours to keep.

To live them again, in our sleep.