Fairport Convention
Fotheringay
How often she has gazed from castle windows allAnd watched the daylight passing within her captive wallWith no one to heed her callThe evening hour is fading within the dwindling sunAnd in a lonely moment, those embers will be goneAnd the last of all the young birds flownHer days of precious freedom, forfeited long beforeTo live such fruitless years behind the guarded doorBut those days will last no moreTomorrow, at this hour, she will be far awayMuch farther than these islands, for the lonely Fotheringay
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