In the still of the night, The story be told, Of a wail in the air, From a man who was old. The locals ne’er notice, The eerily sound, Like a wolf in the distance. Of the howl of this hound. He’s just an old man, Senility so, The cry of a mad man, On a hill where he goes. Yes, no one pays notice, For the love of his wife. Fifty odd years That he pines for her life. The wail in the distance, On the wings of the wind, He cries for his lover, Each night it begins. The old man stopped coming A few years ago, But in the still of the night You can hear him cry so. And it tells you forever, From up on that hill, The love of his life, He’s loving her still.
