I wandered far onto the lonely moors Sparse coarse tufts of grass reached out to trip me And above my head the leaden clouds hung low As I turned my face into the rain. I huddled close against a tumbling wall Wrapped in a cloak to shield me from the bitter cold The solitude weighed heavy on my mind As I turned my face into the rain. The mist rolled down across the countryside I thought I heard the coastal sirens sound As I turned my face into the rain. I tried to peer into the deepening gloom To glimpse a lighted window in the distance But just too far to penetrate the rain As I turned my face into the rain. And yet somehow I sensed her presence near And tufts of sheep's wool hanging from a gorse bush Were as though her hands were beckoning me home As I turned my face into the rain.