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G. Clarkson-H.

Evening the close of day
of blue begin to grey
Crimson are fading in the West.

Evening brings to me
Dreams of that used to be
Memories of those I the best.

When shadows fall and trees whisper: 'Day is
My thoughts are wending home
When call, my heart is forever yearning
Once to be returning home.

When the hills the setting sun
begin a-peeping, one by one
Night covers all and fortune may forsake me
Sweet will ever take me home.

me home, babe.

When the hills the setting sun
begin a-peeping, one by one
Night covers all and though may forsake me
Sweet dreams will take me home.