Man on the Hill - Revisited

On the edge of town down an old dirt road
There's a broken home that people seldom go
The tales been told of the Man up on the hill
The story goes it wasn't always so
That the man on the hill was a lonely soul
But his dreams had died and his heart shattered into bits

He used to sing from the house on the hill
Where he sat on a moonlit windowsill
And she danced by the fire reflecting in her eyes
And he didn't wish for anything
In that moment he held everything
If only he had known he needed more time

On a cold dark night as he lit the fire
He waited to hear her car in the drive
He gave the strings one last final tune
He rushed to greet a knock on the door
But his heart had dropped down to the floor
As a blur of a man said "She's not coming home"

She was on her way to the house on the hill
Where he waited on the windowsill
When a blinding light caught her by surprise
And she held on with everything
But left him without a song to sing
The man on the hill he'd run out of time

Now he doesn't sing from the house on the hill
And there's nothing left of that window sill
All that's left are ashes from the flames
He couldn't live in a house without her around
So he lit a fire and burned it down
The house would be his final resting place

In the dead of night you can hear the sound
Of an old mans cry at the edge of town
The townsfolk say that man is up there still
And although he died many years ago
His broken heart has left his soul
And now he's known as the man up on the hill