As the old town fades in the distance,
There's a wind moving across my back,
My feathers they shine in the moonlight,
And the clouds are overhead
The wind it blows me westward,
Over the snaking of the Thames,
Your voice fades in the distance,
The storm is too strong for my wings
The wind it takes me over London,
I'm fighting just to hear your voice,
But alas! It takes me crashing downwards,
Into the house of Circe
I'll spend the next few years here,
Dying beneath her curse,
Oh how I wish the storm had never brought me here!
Into the house of Circe