Fotheringay

Fotheringay - Fairport Convention

How often she has gazed

From castle windows all

And watched the daylight passing

Within her captive wall

With no one to heed her call

The evening hour is fading

Within the dwindling sun

And in a lonely moment

Those embers will be gone

And the last of all the young birds flown

Her days of precious freedom

Forfeited long before

To live such fruitless years

Behind a guarded door

But those days will last no more

Tomorrow at this hour

She will be far away

Much farther than these islands

For the lonely Fotheringay