Under the galaxy, the whole

And over the casting and the ROE

You work the turning world

Golden Arrows

Slipping further away from me

Golden Arrows

Slipping young ones in darker sleeps

Out of the shutters and the sills

And within the mourning and the chills

You work the turning world...

Down, down, down

Where are the stirrings of old?

I knew you had to last

But then the sound is heard...