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.