The world was young and no bird sung, And no man wandered the land,
And the only sound was the restless wind, And the waves that washed on the sand,
And was there something moving, Like a great bird over the land,
Was it shining bright in the sunlight, As it silently came down?
And did they run, did they run, In the strange hot sun on the lonely edge of the sea,
Did they stand and look at this lonely world, And wonder what it might be,
Did they fly, back into the sky?
Black as the light of a starless night, Was the cloud that covered the sky,
And down from the hill, the night was still,
Where the summer gra**es were high,
And it shone like a light, so the farmer said,
And it never made a sound,
And it came in over the valley, And it landed there on the ground.
Do they come, do they come, When it seems no-one is ever likely to know,
On the darkened side of some lonely road, Do they stand there watching us go,
Do they fly, back into the sky?