Catherine liked high places   High up, high up on the hills   A place for making noises   Like whales   Noises like the whales      Here she built a chapel   With her image   Her image on the wall   A place where she could rest and rest   And a place where she could wash   And listen to the wind blowing      And listen to the wind blow   And listen to the wind   And listen to the wind blow      She dreamt of children's voices   And torture on the wheel   Patron saint of nothing   A woman of the hills   She once was a lady   Of pleasure and high born   A lady of the city   But now she sits and moans      And listens to the wind blow   Listen to the wind blow      I see her in a chapel   High up on the hill   She must be so lonely   Oh mother can't we give   A husband to our catherine   A handsom one, a deal   A rich one for the lady   Someone to listen with      And listen to the wind blow   And listen to the wind blow   And listen to the wind blow   And listen to the wind blow