This is inspired by William Butler Yeats Cathleen, Daughter of Houlihan

The old brown thorn-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand Our Courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies. But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan

The wind has bundled up the clouds high over Knocknarea, and thrown the thunder on the stones for all that Meave can say. Angers that are like noisy clouds have set our hearts abeat; but we have all bent low and low and kissed the quiet feet of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

The yellow pool has overflowed high up on Clooth-ne-bare for the wet winds are blowing out of the clinging air; Like heavy flooded waters our bodies and our blood; But purer than a tall candle before the Holy Rood is Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan. #fuc #folk #acousticonetake #skirmish #guywithukulele #singersongwriter

I wish I knew what it means to be free. To Burn that desire To call that name To search the eyes of Cathleen

To last another December To burn another ember To raise the fire with fan and call the Daughter of Houlihan

Struggles for Identity, Struggles for you and me

I'll call my Brothers in Courage Ain't no easy way that we've seen So we stand and stand and kiss the quiet feet of Cathleen

So we stand and stand and kiss the quiet feet of Cathleen