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The Legend of Wondering O'Malley by nighttime

SongGPT
The Legend of Wondering O'Malley by nighttime - Folk music cover art

The Legend of Wondering O'Malley

Folk

0:004:33
Lyrics
Description
In the misty highlands, where the crags touch the grey,
Lived a man named O'Malley, who'd lost his own way.
He looked at the cities, the greed and the plight,
And his heart was a drum in the pale moonlight.
He'd climb to the tours when the world was asleep,
With questions so heavy and secrets to keep.
He'd stare at the valleys, the rivers of steel,
And the hollowness that he couldn't help but feel.
He'd shout to the wind with a laugh and a tear,
Oh, tell me, you spirits both ancient and dear,
Where does the sin of this broken world grow?
Is it deep in the soil, or the cold winter snow?
The bagpipes would answer a wild happy sound,
As his angry voice echoed on hallowed ground.
Make my story a legend, a whisper, a refrain,
Of the man who saw truth in the sun and the rain.
He spoke to the fae in their moss-covered rings,
To the ghosts of the fallen on raven black wings.
He asked the stone circles, silent and old,
For a truth that was brighter and purer than gold.
He'd turn me to folklore, a myth, and a sign,
A warning, a riddle, a tangled design.
Let them sing of my searching from country to town,
As the sun, it comes up, and the sun, it goes down.
He'd shout to the wind with a laugh and a tear,
Oh, tell me, you spirits both ancient and dear,
Where does the sin of this broken world grow?
Is it deep in the soil, or the cold winter snow?
The bagpipes would answer a wild happy sound,
As his angry voice echoed on hallowed ground.
Make my story a legend, a whisper, a refrain,
Of the man who saw truth in the sun and the rain.
The wind didn't answer with words or with prose,
Or with thorns on the briar and frost on the rose.
A feeling of fury, a sense of strange bliss,
Sealed in the thunder in a serpent's cold kiss.
He felt the world's heartbeat, both wondrous and wrong,
And knew his own question had been the real song.
.
He'd shout to the wind with a laugh and a tear,
Oh, tell me, you spirits both ancient and dear,
Where does the sin of this broken world grow?
Is it deep in the soil, or the cold winter snow?
The bagpipes would answer a wild happy sound,
As his angry voice echoed on hallowed ground.
Make my story a legend, a whisper, a refrain,
Of the man who saw truth in the sun and the rain.
So if you were wandering in Scotland so green,
And you hear a strange question, a sound in between,
A laugh and a cry on the wind it has carried,
It's the soul of O'Malley, forever to be queried.
His legend lives on in the pipes and the stones,
Still wondering, angry and happy, alone.
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