Keeper of abbeys
His name was carved in the grey stone
It was the angel of the north

Reaching for a last
Remnant of the light;
It catches the high stones
He came down from the moors
He’d seen much better days
He set himself to the rain

Keeper of abbeys
His name was carved in the grey stone
It was the angel of the north

Reaching for the light
Rising like the cooling towers
Of the edgelands
Weathered like the stone
Long ago he set himself to the rain

Keeper of abbeys
His name was carved in the grey stone
It was the angel of the north

In his eyes
The embers of love
Fading and failing
If you look close
If you look hard
You can see the traces
He has become the stones;
Weathered to fall
Reaching for the last
Dying ray of light
In a valley in the north
Where a river runs its course

(he had wanted to travel...)