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Holy man,
Don’t waste your breath on me
I don’t seek what you lost
We don’t need your superstition

Keep your poison out of our well
It’s bitter to the taste
We’ve been drinkin’ here
For thousands of years

I left my blessing
On the Brigit’s cross

Our old ways are as snakes
That live deep in the clay
No man with a crooked stick
Can drive them away

He drove our gods into the sea
At least so they say
Let me tell you friend
We’ve given up your ghost

I left my blessing
On the Brigit’s cross

I live my days by the quartered wheel
Woven from the straw
Harvest gold
Reflects the sun

I left my blessing
On the Brigit’s cross

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