See the ruin on the hill

Where the smoke is hanging still

Like an echo of an age long forgotten

There's a story of a home

Crushed beneath those blackened stones

And the roof which fell before the beams were rotten Cecil Darby loved his wife

And he labored all his life

To provide her with material possessions

And he built for her a home of the finest wood and stone

And the building soon became his sole obsession Oh, it took three hundred days for the timbers to be raised

And the silhouette was seen for miles around

And the gables reached as high as the eagles in the sky

But it only took one night to bring it down

When Darby's castle tumbled to the ground Though they shared a common bed

There was precious little said

In the moments that were set aside for sleeping

For his busy dreams were filled

With the rooms he'd yet to build

And he never heard young Ellen Darby weeping Then one night he heard a sound

As he laid his pencil down

And he traced it to her door and turned the handle

And the pale light of the moon

Through the window of the rooms

Split the shadows where two bodies lay entangled Oh, it took three hundred days for the timbers to be raised

And the silhouette was seen for miles around

And the gables reached as high as the eagles in the sky

But it only took one night to bring it down

When Darby's castle tumbled to the ground