Paroles de Wicklow Mountains

In mystic mist These moorlands mourn Leaving colours Still unborn The mountain road By clouds concealed Forever winding Through fogbound fields I, just I And I alone Am lost in heather And stacks of stone Graft and drizzle Gloom and grey Wicklow calls I drift away On the hills of the Irish lands You will not see the sun The ancient celtic legends Will entangle anyone And in the end when you descend You'll be another man You'll need a pint of Guinness To regain yourself again Sun for clouds Blue for grey Wicklow has let me Go again Life and laughter Down below In a town called Glendalough