When the bat's on the wing and the bird's in the tree
Comes the old Starlighter, whom none may see
First in the West, where the low hills are
He touches his wand to the evening star
Then swiftly he runs on his rounds on high
'Til he's lit every lamp in the dark blue sky

When the bat's on the wing and the bird's in the tree
Comes the old Starlighter, whom none may see
First in the West, where the low hills are
He touches his wand to the evening star
Then swiftly he runs on his rounds on high
'Til he's lit every lamp in the dark blue sky