There, upon the moor bleak
A lonely soldier stands
Eternal guardian to a battle long fought
In another time, and long ago.
What is it the soldier seeks
As he guards this quiet land
Does he wait in trust but all for naught
So that homeward he may go?
Does he dream, this sentinel,
Of home and kith and kin?
Of a place somewhere across the sea
Of a love he left behind?
The Phantom of the Moor, he dwells
His memories hide within,
Which cannot be told, cannot be free
Until time itself unwinds
The dream of life has long passed
From this ancient battle scene
And those who lived have long since died
The forgotten guard still stands
How long will eternity last?
Shall he awaken from a dream?
Shall he, at heaven’s gate, be tried
Or feel God’s gentle hand?
But here the lonely soldier waits,
A wraith up the moor,
From here he sees not heaven’s gates
Knows not what he waits there for
He only knows to hold steadfast
To wait in somber silence
Until a call, for him, at last
Frees him from this ancient violence
The soldier knows not why
He died, nor knows not for whom,
His eyes gaze to a cold gray sky
The endless moor his only tomb
He cannot see, and cannot cry
He cannot feel the moor’s damp gloom
He cannot leave, and cannot try
A trillion years too soon…
A trillion years too soon…
A lonely soldier stands
Eternal guardian to a battle long fought
In another time, and long ago.
What is it the soldier seeks
As he guards this quiet land
Does he wait in trust but all for naught
So that homeward he may go?
Does he dream, this sentinel,
Of home and kith and kin?
Of a place somewhere across the sea
Of a love he left behind?
The Phantom of the Moor, he dwells
His memories hide within,
Which cannot be told, cannot be free
Until time itself unwinds
The dream of life has long passed
From this ancient battle scene
And those who lived have long since died
The forgotten guard still stands
How long will eternity last?
Shall he awaken from a dream?
Shall he, at heaven’s gate, be tried
Or feel God’s gentle hand?
But here the lonely soldier waits,
A wraith up the moor,
From here he sees not heaven’s gates
Knows not what he waits there for
He only knows to hold steadfast
To wait in somber silence
Until a call, for him, at last
Frees him from this ancient violence
The soldier knows not why
He died, nor knows not for whom,
His eyes gaze to a cold gray sky
The endless moor his only tomb
He cannot see, and cannot cry
He cannot feel the moor’s damp gloom
He cannot leave, and cannot try
A trillion years too soon…
A trillion years too soon…
