The Fisher King

I went down by the riverside
That runs between the hazel’d halls
And on an apple-blossomed hill
I slept beside the golden falls
And as I wandered far in sleep
The fisher king flashed blue on gray
I heard a voice come from the deep
And call my name from far away
Rain won’t wash away the memories
And the wind won’t hide her perfume
But it blows
I linger by the western sea
I hear the horseman riding past
Young dreams I dreamt are gone from me
Like summer whispers in the grass
Rain won’t wash away the memories
And the wind won’t hide her perfume
But it blows
Rain won’t wash away the memories
And the wind won’t hide her perfume