Tall Shadow, striding though the meadows of tomorrow
Tall Shadow, helping out a child or a widow
No one’s ever seen him
So they only half believe he’s really there
He just tends to breeze in
Then he’s gone again before you’re quite aware
Tall Shadow, sleeping with the heather as his pillow
Tall Shadow, he would never dress in pink or yellow
No one’s ever seen him
So they only half believe he’s really there
He just tends to breeze in
Then he’s gone again before you’re quite aware
Tall Shadow, striding though the meadows of tomorrow
Tall Shadow, helping out a child or a widow

© Mr Roberelli Ltd - Designed by Studio Q.