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