Years pass each slower than the last
A pall of miseries been cast
The long soft gives a deep dark clue
Drawing out a witch’s tune
The chord you heard gave somber clue
Perhaps she’s giving up on you

You had to pass old Router’s Ridge
The creaking boards moved just a smidge
It’s not enough to be in love
The nightingale she cries above
Upon her song there drifts a clue
Perhaps she’s giving up on you

The story crept out from that ridge
It swept him from old Router’s bridge
The crying wind walked through forlorn
Unholy rumor then was born
It whet their thoughts like morning dew:
That’s why they are giving up on you

Seems Mary disappeared that day
And rumor black they came to stay
What happened up upon that ridge
When you went ‘or the creaking bridge?
Did Mary tell what we all knew?
That she was giving up on you?

Hail kings and princes held in thrall!
The heather withers when they call.
It floats some nights across the air
And some do hear in them that care
For me there’s one last thing to do
You know I’m giving up on you
You know I’m giving up on you
You know I’m giving up on you.