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The host is riding from Knocknarea
And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare
Caoilte tossing his burning hair
And Niamh calling: 'Away, come away'
'Away, come away, away, away'.
The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round
Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound
Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are agleam
Empty your heart of its mortal dream.
The host is riding from Knocknarea
And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare
Caoilte tossing his burning hair
And Niamh calling: 'Away, come away'
'Away, come away, away, away'.
Our armsa-wave, our lips are apart
And if anything gaze on our rushing band
We come between him and the hope of his heart
We come between him and the deed of his hand.
The host is riding from Knocknarea
And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare
Caoilte tossing his burning hair
And Niamh calling: 'Away, come away'
'Away, come away, away, away, away, away...'.
- Album:
- Modern Blues
- An Appointment With Mr Yeats
- Dream Harder
- Room To Roam
- This Is The Sea
- A Pagan Place
- Miscellaneous
- This Is the Sea (Deluxe Version)
- The Waterboys
- Room to Roam (Deluxe Version)
- The Whole Of The Moon - The Music Of...
- The Whole of the Moon: The Music of Mike Scott & the...
- Balearic Soft Rock
- 80s Dancefloor
- Best of British
- HartRock 2011
- Radio 2 Topcollectie Rock Klassiekers Deel 2
- The Other Side Of The 80s
- Pop Rock Station (By Zegut), Vol. 3
- Uncut 2015.02: Doing It Right!