The many windowed night looks out
From dancing street to silent depths of solitude.
Lying wakeful on my bed
I hold your hand as you drift off in dreams.
The night becomes a fairy tale
Of laughing children, singing Gods.
And I, the Gypsy Rover,
Whistle thru your valley, casting magic spells.

I watch you rising, falling,
In the easy rhythm of your sleep soft breathing.
And smiling softly, I reach out
Caressing the hair that flows beside me.
My room becomes a wonderland
Where life is endless, all is good.
And the shadows of the soft lit night
Are freely flitting satyrs.

My body aches from weariness
And so I slide to lie beside you quietly.
I reach gently to caress your lips
In the tender evenings final kiss.
You, half-waking, turn to nestle
Warmly, closely into me.
The many windowed night revolves
From dancing street to love filled depths of solitude.

Merry meet, merry part and merry meet again,
To Fire and Water, to Earth and to Wind.
In the Circle of Life, the Dance never ends,
So merry meet, merry part and merry meet again.

Merry meet, merry part and merry meet again.
May the Lord and the Lady guide you safely til then.
May your days all be peaceful and joyful my friend.
Merry meet....

Merry meet....
May skill and good fortune fill the work of your hands.
May the love of the Lady bless all of your plans.
Merry meet....

Merry meet....
But if something should happen to one of us, friend,
I'll still see you later on some other plane.
Merry meet....

Repeat first verse.

On the misty Monday morning of the dawn of my release,
While searching through the shadows for some sign of inner peace,
I found a misty morning maiden with flowers in her hair,
Smelled a cooling, soothing fragrance, I heard music everywhere.
And the misty morning maiden softly took me by the hand.
Sometimes laughing, sometimes weeping, led me thru her misty morning land.

From the melding of a mirror with the vision of its face,
We went slipping down a mossy bank where a swirling brooklet raced.
And there upon a sandy shore where the mountain flowers lie,
We counted all the pebbles as we watched the clouds roll by.
And the misty morning maiden warmly took my wandering hand,
And, laughing thru her teardrops called me her misty morning man.