Near a tree by a river there's a hole in the ground.
Where an old man of iron goes around and around.
And his mind he's a beacon in the veil of the night.
For a strange kind of fashion there's a wrong and a right
But he'll never
never fight over you.
Near a tree by a river
Where an old man of iron
And his mind he's a beacon
For a strange kind of fashion
Near a tree by a river there's a hole in the ground.
Where an old man of iron goes around and around.
And his mind he's a beacon in the veil of the night.
For a strange kind of fashion there's a wrong and a right
But he'll never
never fight over you.
Near a tree by a river there's a hole in the ground.
Where an old man of iron goes around and around.
And his mind he's a beacon in the veil of the night.
For a strange kind of fashion there's a wrong and a right
But he'll never
never fight over you.

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