Cruachan
The Living and the Dead
1. The Living
2. The Queen
Some speak of Kings and high born lords
Some speak of Earls and noble men
But this tale I tell from long ago
Concerns not a one of them
A Warrior Queen, born of the sea
A leader of strength and renown
Throughout Europe there be none like her
They call her a Queen though she wears no crown
Grace is her name and Ireland her home
A land of conquest rebellion and strife
Under the rule of a Tudor Queen
Who placed a bounty upon her life
Elizabeth is she and England is hers
As well as lands taken by force
But Ireland hast been a thorn in her side
Her rule of law she cannot enforce
Grace:
Ma’am I write to you under duress
Two women of power are we
Our conflict of nations I wish to address
And my countries right to be
So I ask for a congress of both our minds
And I appeal to your common sense
I will go to your land and to your great hall
If you agree these talks should commence
Elizabeth:
Get thee away, you low born fool
This traitor of ill repute
She dares to write to beg for my aid
My rule is absolute!
No concession will I ever condone
While she attacks my men on the seas
I have burned her letter, let it be known
No retort from me will she receive
Grace clashed with Spanish and with Turks
Yet the English caused the most pain
Elizabeth warred on countless fronts
Creating a monetary strain
At last, with Grace, a decision was made
To London she would go
She had sent a fair and impassioned plea
Yet no response did the Queen bestow
On a bright July morning Grace readied her fleet
Four score men and their Warrior Queen
Set sail across the pale narrow sea
Towards the unknown and dangers unseen
Arriving at last in the strangest of lands
Through a maze of dark dismal streets
A foul stench pervaded the air
Of human waste and rancid meats
As Grace progressed through the city so vast
The people did stop to gaze and stare
“Who is this woman in garments so fine
That moves with grace and a Gaelic flair”
And so the chamberlain did announce
When Grace came to the home of the Queen
“please, this way, do come with me,
It has been agreed, you shall be seen”
Elizabeth:
Grace I greet you as a friend
Two women of power are we
The title of countess I would convey
If you would swear fealty to me
You did not bow when you approached
And I take no offense I swear
So tomorrow let the people say
We’ve ended this affair
Grace:
Your kindness has been well received
And I wish you no offence
But to me, a title, you cannot convey
For we are equals in every sense
I do however have a request
Amends I would ask of thee
To pardon the crimes you claimed were mine
And let my ancestral lands be
At this point Grace turned to sneeze
A courtier gave to her a silken cloth
The used cloth was cast to the fire
Shocking the Queen and the royal court
The congress had ended and Grace returned home
To the land she loved so well
The Queen had honoured all that was said
So Grace was free from the English hell
3. The Hawthorn
In darkest night, witching night
Among the hawthorn-o
When the moon has come to Earth
The shepherd tends his flock
A babe in arms, the innocent cry
Among the hawthorn-o
Fire is burning in the sky
The shepherd tends his flock
Youthful maid of truthful staid
Among the hawthorn-o
Tears are offered willingly to
The shepherd and his flock
The veil of death, a pauper’s mask
Among the hawthorn-o
A solemn task must now transpire
The shepherd tends his flock
God is lost, love is lost
Among the hawthorn-o
The dank of time pervades the air
The shepherd tends his flock
An ancient wind disturbs the leaves
Among the hawthorn-o
There is a presence in the air
The shepherd tends his flock
A church bell peals, a branch cast forth
Among the hawthorn-o
Christ shall not receive this soul
The shepherd tends his flock
Into the ground, into the earth
Among the hawthorn-o
Life breeds life, death brings life to
The shepherd and his flock
4. The Harvest
Plough and till, till and sow
That’s how we toil in March
Work the seeds, make them grow
Pray the harvest will be vast
Shear and reap, reap and mow
By the light of the harvest moon
Cut, pull, bind and throw
The harvest’s coming soon
Altogether, all for one
September is here at last
We’ll toil all day in the burning sun
Till the barley has amassed
Samhain calls, summers end
Prepare for rain and cold
Blessed rites we all attend
We pray to the Gods of old
So labour hard, labour long
Until the barns are heaped
We drink an ale, we sing a song
Till all the crops be reaped
Our work is done, toil no more
The Winter birds have flown
Close the barn, lock the door
We’ve brought the harvest home
5. The Festival
6. The Ghost
Where Am I, what has happened to me?
I remember the sun, the grass, a tree
…and the sisters, the hateful sisters
always angry, always beating me
And the laundry, the iron press
Working hard till late at night
No time for me to be a child
No colour, no joy, no light, no hope
Now I find myself alone
I see shadows of my friends
They are weeping, they are afraid
I call out but make no sound
Again the sun and that lonely tree
A lifeless child hangs low, that child is me
A victim of the church and the ‘love’ they bestow
On the shortest branch I see a crow.
7. The Crow
Black as coal with the Devil’s eye
Fly like a witch in the evening sky
Black as coal with the Devil’s eye
Men flee, men hide, and children cry
Oh the crow does sit on the shortest branch
Of the oldest oak there be
And she views her vast surroundings
With an ominous sense of glee
She’s more devious than the falcon
She is wiser than the owl
She has seen the greatest feats of men
And has witnessed deeds most foul
Black as coal with the Devil’s eye
Fly like a witch in the evening sky
Black as coal with the Devil’s eye
Men flee, men hide, and children cry
Oh she softly glides to the earth below
Cloaked in childish dreams of night
And settles upon a pile of dead
Neither sorrowful nor contrite
For the dead - they were once children
They were wards of a pious state
Well now they lie here lifeless
Victims of an imposed faith
Black as coal with the Devil’s eye
Fly like a witch in the evening sky
Black as coal with the Devil’s eye
Men flee, men hide, and children cry
Oh the sisters call her a wicked bird
As they run and wave their arms
But the crow respects the olden ways
Of nature spells, and forest charms
She calls the children to her
And to her they do come
They leave the evils of men’s earth
And fly towards the rising sun
8. The Reaper
I have witnessed a man
Resplendent in his decay
A testament to the ages
His ghost trapped within
A father to his sons
Left in filth and ruin
The light of his soul is cast
And the reaper waits
How can he go, how can he leave?
When the cross is bearing down on he
Let him be, please let him be,
The dying man is he!
In a world of sinners
Who wears their shame?
No crown of thorns
Just broken shattered dreams
The tide has turned for all
Yet he soldiers on
A memory of a time and place
And the reaper waits
On bended knee he weeps
With arms raised high
An angel in his turmoil
The promise of eternity
A golden path is open
Fire ignites the sky
Yet he bides his time
And the reaper waits
9. The Children
Have you seen the children, the children, the children
Have you seen the children as they play at children’s games
They laugh and sing together, together, together
They laugh and sing together yet they be all in chains
They do not have their mothers, their mothers, their mothers
They do not have their mothers just the sisters that they dread
The sisters have a secret, a secret, a secret
The sisters have a secret for to the devil they are wed
The children wash the bedsheets, the bedsheets, the bedsheets
The children wash the bedsheets in the laundry cold and dark
They work and play together, together, together
They work and play together, though life be grim and stark
The sisters kill the children, the children, the children,
The sisters kill the children in the middle of the night
The children sing together, together, together
The children sing together as they fade away from sight
10. The Changeling
The child you love, the child you do adore
Has changed into a creature you abhor
A twisted version of the child that was
The darkest of exchanges was the cause
From the woods we come, from the forest deep
Take the child from slumber, take the child from sleep
Cast this wicked child upon the pyre
Force the sinful changeling to retire
Now your child the Faeries shall return
Lest their addled child forever burn
From the woods we come, from the forest deep
Take the child from slumber, take the child from sleep
11. The Witch
Have you seen the dark haired woman
move with elegance and flair
All the men be held in her spell
Though she does not know nor care
For she is the Pagan forest witch
And in her beauty there be a snare
Among the oaks she calls her home
The forest floor she calls her bed
From the river wild she takes a draught
And from all of life is fed
She needs nothing from the modern world
For to the land and earth is wed
Tall and graceful grows her body
An earthly rule does she possess
Her lips as red as a bloodied rose
Her face shows beauty and finesse
Yet her clothes be worn and tattered
With stains of earth upon her dress
For the longest time she has here dwelled
Learning forest spells and more
She can cure all ails and troubles
With blossoms and herbal lore
She’s a child of nature and the wild
Yet like a mother we adore
Woe to those who try to harm her
Those who would think to violate
For an ancient magic dwells within
A terrible vigour she would create
So take your passions elsewhere
Lest you suffer this dreadful fate
But to those that show her love
A primal passion shared in lust
Then fear her not, this forest nymph
Her soul to you she will entrust
For an eternity would her loyalty live
Till all of men be dust
12. The Dead
The evil we call the church should be expunged from the world.
The church is the essence of evil, an irrelevant archaic darkness.
For too long they have evaded accountability for their crimes.
Lyrics in plain text format
