mark knopfler
silver eagle
it was so late and she'd be sleeping he came through her home town with the moonlight on the crossroads and the green light shining down and the bell at the railroad crossing and the horn from far away and his silver eagle passing half a mile from where she lay at his feet a sea of faces make devotions with their love clap their hands and plead their cases call for blessings from above like the rolling waves forever massing to crash and foam and creep away and the silver eagle passing half a mile from where she lay road signs flow into the headlights whisper names and fall behind he finds some honor in the darkness hopes for grace and peace of mind and he thinks of how they'd lay together he'd run his fingers through her hair and he wonders if she'll ever come to know that he was there