1. THROUGH THE LUNGS OF THE DEAD

Sucked down through the lungs of the dead am I
The water, cold, dims my brain.
My mind it dies, nothing left but my trail of tears
Which mingle with manannán's minions
They drag me nearer...
...And nearer.

Down do I sink
His Isle towers mighty
I see no water
My soul be free
Gates all silver, slowly open.
I am greeted coldly still I stroll
through the grassy plain.

He beckons me through meadows warm
and orchards with boughs of apples gold.
Horses, white, run rampant through the plains.

At last I see him clothes in red,
a golden torc around his neck.
On a throne of stone does sit manannán mac lir.

Lord of the ocean, lord of the sea
His pale green eyes they stare at me
Suddenly I realise with dread
I have succumbed, that I am dead
My soul be all that's left of me
My soul be all that's left of me
My soul be all that's left of me
Must I stay here for an eternity


2. THE SUMMONING

Summoned here I have been
From a land of war
To this place of peace
Why am I here
I know not
Yet familiar be this place.
My mind does drift away
To a time not long ago
Details just out of reach
Some sense tells me
I have been here before.

Before when I cannot recall.
Battles and blood cloud my memories.
Many men fell - yes fell many men
But their names I cannot tell
Nor their purpose in my story.

The air smells sweet here
On this plain full of apples.
Cattle - many - roam the fields,
Their ears of a hue like winter sunset.
Proud must be the righ of this place
To possess such wealth.
Some sense tells me I have seen him before.

Before when I cannot recall.
Battles and blood cloud my memories.
Many men fell - yes fell many men
But his name I cannot tell
Nor his purpose in my story.

I stroll through the grasses
Bathed in the sunshine glorious.
The light makes the stream shimmer
And so I wander to its banks.
Soothing is its babbling sound,
It relaxes my spirit
As I stare at my reflection.
My senses tell me I have seen me before...

...Before when I do now recall.
Mongá mac manannán bringer of battle
And blood to eire.
Many men fell - yes fell many men
Their names I now can tell
And my purpose in their story


3. THE DOOM OF THE RACES OF EIRE

Worn am I, drained of life
Though this world of plenty be more than I deserve.
So much blood and slaughter
Still stain my hands - once crimson, now crusted,
A sure sign of one damned.

Now I know that I've been here
Many times before.

The harbringer of doom.
Knocking on the door
Of the gaedhil
Who constantly deny and trample on the will of the shidhe

For at maigh turadh I was balor
And at tailteann, eibher fionn
I choked the great king cormac with my bones which were too Strong
Then I was pádraig, the bringer of the boy god.
I forced the will of ard macha on the kingdoms of the south.

Now the man who has brought ruin on the family of ború
In response to the gold offerings placed to endorse the same Christ's rule
And condemn hisfamily's bean sidhe to the rocks near ceann Cora
The doom of the races of eire for destroying the gods of Yore


4. OUR ANCESTORS DWELL HERE

Riding towards me on a stallion dazzling white
- Save his ears a fiery crimson.
Both of the otherworld - the king and his beast.
This be truly a land of plenty
With nothing left to want.

He beckons me.
Unclean I feel,
Yet I go to him all dazzling pure.

Far beneath man is this land of mac lir
What a wonderous place is this magical tir.
Our ancestors dwell here in relative peace
Save the hurt caused to them knowing
Their living destroy the tuatha


5. MANANNAN

Mannanán questions mongán:
How goes it on the bounds of my western shores
Since the arrogant "emperor of the gael"
Has met his fate and heard his bean shidhe wail?

Such a death fitting
For granting gifts of gold
To the followers of the buachaill dé.
Elevating them to such haughty heights
That they do deny us our inheritance.

Mongáin replies:
His family be in ruins.
All save the spawn of gormlaith,
A son of Ború. who did die broken too.
How ironic !
Rudderless be eire's people.
Kings in opposition all.
Their fall be at hand.
Soon will come their doom.

Mannanán to the gael:
No one to lead you now, muintir na ngael,
None shall, for you have turned your backs on the gods of your people.
Strife shall reek havoc across your lands (for a millennium),
And ye will stare into the very face of ye'er doom.

The ollamh, file and bard
Are being driven from the courts of the kings,
By the followers of the young god whos strength is on the rise.
It is not so easy to turn your back on those who have kept ye safe -
Solely for purchase of profit and power.


6. A NATION IN RUINS

The silver horned stag does traipse the land
From oceans to mac lir's sea.
Scanning the land with the knowing eyes,
He sees Her scars and roars loud,
Echoing the pain she does feel,
As man does inflict itself on a tired land.

Her air does reek of noxious gasses.
Her hills be pits filled with dead waste.
Her forests and Her soldires vanished.
Her temples once sacred now scarred.

Cár imigh an t-each?
Cén áit na fir?
Cé t-ionad lucht bronnta na taisce?
Cén t-áithreabh na fleitithe?
Conas aoibhneas na bruÍnne a athghabháil?
Tá said marbh.

"The gael has brought ruin to my sister.
Only fódhla and banbha still stay unscarred.
By the savage greed has eriú been battered.
If she dies her sisters will fade.
I have cursed ye in the hope of ye changing.
I one day hoped to show ye true life.
I hoped one day to walk as man among ye
Instead of hiding in the hills as a stag I ride.

I grieve for ye tuatha d'eireann.
I grieve for ye my sisters' whores
Who sell and rape yerselves daily.
To the highest bidder ye will be sold.
First boy-child, then gold, now immortality
- How can I still want to intervene ?

For one thousand years ye have behaved the harlot
Killing sacred white animals with ears scarlet.
Now on hills as a sheep in the company of wolves.
I still do wonder how I can fill the gulf.
The void that became when you denied your gods.
You pitiful irish are now my lost cause."


7. THE GAELIC TWILIGHT

And ye do fade to a faint red hue staring down, veiled in darkness.
How does it feel now
To be the same as me ?
Feeling loneliness and doubt in this world full of hell.
Wondering if you'll e'er return to your former glorious self.

I feel your despair for it echoes within my soul.
Fear not, like my ancestors of old.
As we both know it be just for a time, a time short.
Unlike the misery they endured from gall both white, gray and black.

Survived we did, but mere shadows
Scarce enough to shade the lives of gaedhill.

They dance to new dances
And prey on new gods.
As we abandoned ours
- So did they theirs
Our sentence was
The gaedhilic twilight.
Theirs I fear be death


8. BACK TO EIRE I GO WITH A HEAVY HEART

One hundred days or one hundred years ?
I cannot tell how long I've been here.
Sampling delights of his kingdom bright
Far beneath the waves.

White blossoms fall down from the tree.
I feel it - he does beckon me.
"One more time my dear old friend
To go back and make amends

For the constant wrongs that plague the land.
Go once more. deal them doom's hand.
You did leave the world as mael mórdha.
So you shall return as dairmúid mac murrough."

My heart does sink, yet I sharpen my blade.
One last time I leave from this peaceful glade
To doom those to which I depart.
Back to eire I go with a heavy heart