On a dark and windy night
He laid in the streets and bled
Longing for the safe
Soft warmness of his bed
As he lay there in the night.
Slowly leaving was his sight
He knew soon he would be dead
As the pain slowly numbed in his head
He looked up and thought he saw a light
A light which cut through the darkness of night
In the light he found hope that he no longer will be ill
But to be in heaven, and ride on an angel's wing.
And in heaven he longed to roam
Running freely over the hills
And he looked up and saw the angels sing,
Ever calling, calling him home.