From the recording Under an Impression
This song was born on a misty Killarney hillside in winter. It echoes the aisling form of poetry, for personal allegory rather than the political ones from times of old. A melancholic musing, a foggy awakening from a strange dream. Its includes the French Horn playing of Louise Sullivan and the high sonorous tones of my niece Ava O'Malley on backing vocals.
Lyrics
I was under an impression
that right was right and wrong was,
I was under a cloud that had gathered
and left me feeble and bereft.
Of all the times that were,
of all the times to come,
here am I lost among.
I climbed a hill that rolled under
clouds that rolled above,
waited for a carriage to arrive,
an abiding memory,
green hills in a grey country
cold, collared, fallen time.
Of all the times that were,
Of all the times to come,
here am I lost among.
I pulled up my cloak against the cold,
And thought the wind taught me.
Though I couldn’t hear it clearly,
lessons, whispered in my ear.
Is something to be learned
lost among the memories?
Green hills in a grey country,
cold collared, fallen time.
Of all the times that were,
of all the times to come,
here am I lost among.