Beyond the hills where the wild winds roam, There stood a girl by a dying stone. With silver thread in her raven hair, She played her song to the empty air. Her lover left when the banners flew, With a rusted blade and a coat of blue. He kissed her hand beneath the pine, “Wait for me when the stars align.” And every winter, she came alone, To the crooked tree where the ravens had flown. Through rain and frost, through fire and snow, She played the song he used to know. Oh, lament, lament, carry her away, Down through the valley where the shadows stay. Oh, lament, lament, let the old wind cry, For some hearts wait long after lovers die. The years grew long and the village grew old, The tavern burned and the bells grew cold. Children forgot what the elders knew, But still she waited beneath the moon. One winter night, when the snow fell deep, They found her there in eternal sleep. Her hands still held what her lips had played, An ocarina of weathered clay. And every winter, when night winds blow, The mountain sings with a voice so low. No living soul can tell you why, But they hear her song when the ravens fly. Oh, lament, lament, carry her away, Down through the valley where the shadows stay. Oh, lament, lament, let the old wind cry, For some hearts wait long after lovers die. They say he never found his way home. They say he fell where the black rivers foam. They say his ghost still walks the road, Searching for the hand he held long ago. But the oldest folk say something more When the moon is red and the tavern doors Are left ajar for the midnight breeze, Two voices sing among the trees. One for the heart that waited. One for the heart that strayed. One for the promise spoken. One for the promise betrayed. Raise no glass in celebration. Speak no name beneath the flame. For every tavern keeps a sorrow, And every sorrow has a name. Oh, lament, lament, carry them away, Down through the valley where the shadows stay. Oh, lament, lament, let the old wind cry, For some hearts wait long after lovers die. Oh, lament, lament, let the ocarina play, Sing of the ones who never found their way. Oh, lament, lament, until the fire dies, Their love still wanders underneath these skies. And when the wind comes through the door... Listen.
