And in the evening, when the day goes down,
She leaves the bright house lights.
Stands and watches, with her coat pulled around,
While torches light the western skies.
Sometimes she thinks she knows him just too well.
Other times, not much at all.
They live their lives in some familiar spell
and catch each other when they fall.

...

She longs to run out where the day meets the night,
Far beyond these [Bedfordshire] farms.
But she'll be with him till the day she finds
A stranger lying in her arms.