Ciarán's Well

Misty cold nights
You'll hear her sigh
And sing bitter
sweet lullabies

For years she prayed
The saints would cast
a spell for the
forest to let her go

She sings...
She dreams...
She prays...

She sings...
she plays...
she stays...

Ah Ah
Ah Ah

The black old well
Holds ancient tales
And makes all wishes come true
So throw your dream
Into the dark
And Blue will come for you