it was on a cold and windy night
we sat waiting for the dawn
huddled close up to the fire
and the shutters all were drawn
when we heard hoof beats comin'
and a whinney in the night
and the moon hung on the mountain
seemed to shiver
the horse pulled up inside the yard
and the horseman he leapt down
we could hear him running to the door
as his boot heels beat the ground
and we heard him breathing heavy
through the bitter howling wind
as he hammered roughly at the window
open up your lattice
let your voices all be still
for the hounds are at my heels
and there's yeomen on the hill
I need a horse and water
for my mare is spent and lame
and very door I knew seems closed against me
we held our hands against our ears
that we might not hear his plea
that we'd been called by heaven
at last to pay our fee
for the favours he had given
and the duties he had paid
like Peter in the market we denied him
now the night wind it is silent
and the dogs the only sound
baying on the mountain
at the quarry they have found
and we who turned away are left
to live each waking day
ashamed to see our faces in the mirror
now it is a cold and windy night
we sit waiting for the dawn
huddled close up to the fire
and the shutters all are drawn
for the saints have all forsaken
our every Hallows Eve
and the horseman rides upon the mountain