I glanced to the Wicklow hills
where the sun stained pink
the clouds bedecking the mountains
and though I knew this clockwork’s gist
my eyes were blown away
a man stood to worship
for a man exalted
by fire and rock and water
I glanced to the Wicklow hills
where the sun stained pink
the clouds bedecking the mountains
and though I knew this clockwork’s gist
my eyes were blown away
a man stood to worship
for a man exalted
by fire and rock and water