Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran

Goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night

For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right
Near a tree by a river

There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran
Goes around and around

And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion

There's a wrong and a right...