Whoa, whoa.

Come down from the mountain, you have been gone to long.
The spring is upon us; follow my only song, to settle down with me by the fire of my yearning hearth.
You should come back home, back on your own, now.

Whoa, whoa.

The world is alive now, in and outside our home.
You run through the forest settle deep for the sun.
Darling, I can barely remember you beside me ohhh.
You should come back home, back on your own, now.

Whoa, whoa.

You should come back home, back on your own, now.
And even in the night, when the women of the woods came by, to give to you the word of the old man.
And in the morning time, when the sparrow and the seagull fly, and Jonathan and Evelyn give tide.

Whoa.

Follow me if you will, at the top of Beringer Hill.
Tell me anything you want, any old lie will do.
Call me back to, back to you.
Lie to me if you will, at the top Beringer Hill.
Tell me anything you want, any old lie do.
Call me back to, back you.
Back to you, back to you, back to you, back to you, back to you.