Matthews' Southern Comfort - The Castle Far lyrics

The night is cold, the castle far, the forest lies between My mind runs on and conjures scenes of love that might have been My steed is lame, my lance is broken, my helmet cleaved in twain The perils of the battle's past, the evil serpent slain Perhaps the dawn will bring me home And from the gates they'll run Keen hands will lift me from my horse And fife will sound with drum The night is cold, the castle far, my prize not love but fame And she for whom the fight was won will never bear my name