Sorrel — Wishbone Ash

In a garden of the southland He found her wandering astray She came to show him of her beauty That many passersby don't see

Would you be taking in Such frail-looking lady The sadness of her lone display

Dressed in yellow fire burning The corner dweller on the lane Sorrow was her only feeling For she could have no living shame

Take good time To sow your own true seed The summers end will bring your leaving

Then he journeyed for a long ways And she was never in his mind Came he home to just a memory For the lady she had died