From the recording Fire & Foam
I was named after a prince that never came,
I’m the end of a long line that bore the name.
Thomond abandoned, its long since there was
a prince in Deasmhumhain
like an arrow that arched o’er the bog,
’til it sinks down into the mud,
poised I rise and follow myself,
’til time kept is snuffed out and bate.
A Kingdom rich in treasured gold,
that gathers grudges deep,
It hides its buried hoard,
as wolves lay down next to me.
Was there a time, when woods were our home?
That timber sailed on a tender,
no more to plunder, no more fleets roam.
Seas of riches still syphoned, allegiances sold,
no more the past haunts, or so we’ve been told.