The Courier - Seth Lakeman

Come the courier alone, the high road winds you loose,

Water smoothed the stones, but a weary figure stoops.

Still in the night, there’s a curse he must find.

Come the courier alone, and the flurry of suffering.

Past the low-sinking bridge, for the surging river spring.

Still in the night there’s a curse he must find.

A mark in stone, the highway home.

A mark in stone, the highway home.

Come the courier alone, for the vivid woods ablaze.

A wild fever forms the pinnacle of his gaze.

Still in the night, there’s a curse he must find.

A mark in stone, the highway home.

A mark in stone, the highway home.

Come the courier alone, for a courting moon, so bright.

Come the wayside crowd, the silhouette of grey and white.

Still in the night there’s a curse he must find.

A mark in stone, the highway home.

A mark in stone, the highway home.