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...