Through the Lungs of the Dead Mael Mórdha

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Sucked down through the lungs of the dead am I
The water, cold, dims my brain.
My mind it dies, nothing left but my trail of tears
Which mingle with Manannán's Minions
They drag me nearer...
...And nearer.

Down do I sink
His Isle towers mighty
I see no water
My soul be free
Gates all silver, slowly open.
I am greeted coldly still I stroll
through the grassy plain.

He beckons me through meadows warm
and orchards with boughs of apples gold.
Horses, white, run rampant through the plains.

At last I see him clothes in red,
a golden torc around his neck.
On a throne of stone does sit Manannán Mac Lir.

Lord of the ocean, Lord of the Sea
His pale green eyes they stare at me
Suddenly I realise with dread
I have succumbed, that I am dead
My soul be all that's left of me
My soul be all that's left of me
My soul be all that's left of me
Must I stay here for an eternity




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