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Giant
por
Stan Rogers
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Cold wind on the harbour and rain on the road Wet promise of winter brings recourse to coal There's fire in the blood and a fog on Bras d'Or The giant will rise with the moon. 'Twas the same ancient fever in the Isles of the Blest That our fathers brought with them when they "went West" It's the blood of the Druids that never will rest The giant will rise with the moon. So crash the glass down! move with the tide! Young friends and old whiskey are burning inside. Crash the glass down! Fingal will rise With the moon. In inclement weather the people are fey Three thousand year stories as the night slips away Remembering Fingal feels not far away The giant will rise with the moon. The wind's in the north, there be new moon tonight And we have no circle to dance in it's sight So light a torch, bring the bottle and build the fire bright The giant will rise with the moon.
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