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