Satyrs

Hear the satyrs calling, crying as the windy day is dying

Over the rocks

They're eyeing

See the satyrs leap and scramble

Through the briar and brake and bramble

In the glow

Of the red sun sunken low

Without head or heart to borrow

Any care

Of all sadness, of all sorrow

Unaware

Without head or heart to borrow

Any care

Of all sadness, of all sorrow

Unaware

Without head or heart to borrow

Any care

Of all sadness, of all sorrow

Unaware