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Cruachan - A Celtic Legacy

A Celtic Legacy

Karmageddon Media - 2007



The Hound of Culann, The Hound of Ulster,
He is of the otherworld,
His father is God Lugh Lamheada,
His mother Dectire is mortal.

Culann the smith was holding a feast,
For the Ard Ri Conchobhar,
His mighty Hound had been unleashed,
To guard the fortress´ mighty door.

Setanta arrived late at the gates,
He did not know of Culann´s Hound,
The Hound attacked and met its fate,
It lay there dead upon the ground.

Culann was nagered when he learned,
His favorite Hound was no more,
But Setanta swore he´d stay at night,
To guard the fortress´ mighty door.

He took up arms on that day,
Which Cathbad declared auspicious,
He who took up arms on that day,
Would become famous but short lived.

His body begins to twist and turn,
His flesh revolves within his skin,
His features turn red one by one,
And the slaying then begins.

He returned to Eamhain Macha,
And threatened to destroy the town,
The naked women were then brought forth,
He then began to calm down,

He fell in love with Emer,
Her father was appalled,
"No warrior shall be with her
unless by Domhnall he is called".

He went to train with Domhnall,
And learned from him all that he could,
You must go and train with Scathach,
He bowed his head and said he would.

Having learned the martial arts he
returned to claim the hand of Emer.

Her father he quickly refused,
Cuchulainn showed his battle temper
He entered the fortress and left many
of the warriors dead,
Emer´s father killed himself
The two lovers then were wed.
Cuchulainn, The Hound of Culann x3
He is the Son of a God.

Cuchulainn, The Hound of Culann x3
Serpents and Dragons he fought.

Cuchulainn solely defended Ulster,
During the mighty war and tain.
When Medb of Connaught invaded,
He stood his ground despite the pain.
He is called a tragic hero´
With Caladin his Sword,
He killed his best friend Frediad
at the battle of the Ford.

Cuchulainn, The Hound of Culann x3
His is the Son of a God
Cuchulainn, The Hound of Culann x3
Serpents and Dragons he fought.

In Cuchulainns final fight,
A javelin was thrown at him,
It sliced his stomach like a knife,
and caused his innards to fall out.

He staggered to a nearby lake,
Where he took a final drink.
A raven who was drinking his blood,
tripped over his intestines.

The hero gave a last great laugh,
and tied himself against a stone,
He faced his enemies standing up,
But he knew his life was quickly going.

For three days the foe were scared,
Until A crow perched on his arm,
An otter began to drink his blood,
"Cuchulainn is Dead", is what they said.

To Invoke The Horned God

He holds a twisted torc in his hand,
the forests are his ruling land.

"Great god Cernunnos, return to Earth again,
come at my call and show thyself to men,
sheperd of goats, upon the wild hills way,
lead thy lost flock from darkness unto day".

the Horned God is our nature deity,
yet modern man would from his presence flee.

"Forgotten are the ways of sleep and night,
men seek for them, whose eyes have lost the light,
open the door, the door that hath no key,
the door of dreams, wereby men come to thee".

Sheperd of goats, O answer unto me!
The summerlands is where we shall meet thee.

To invoke thee...
The Horned God.

Celtica (Voice Of The Morrigan)

On the ground he lays,
His lifeblood drains from him,
The battle has been fought,
And the fighting now stopped.
He scans the battlefield,
Oh the bloodshed he can see,
So many that have died,
And so few who survived.

His brother´s men at arms,
Who he´s known since he was a lad,
Lie silent by his side no longer alive.

Lying by a tree
Is a broken shattered man,
Killed by the sword in my warrior´s hand.
But in his heart
He does not hate this man,
He fought for a case,
He could not understand.

His brother´s men at arms,
Who he´s known since he was a lad,
Lie silent by his side no longer alive.

A thousand years have passed
And mankind has stayed the same,
They fight against each other for political gain,
A politic state rule - the government tool,
People live in fear under madman rule.

His brother´s men at arms,
Who´ve been with him since he was a lad,
Will fight by his side for the right to survive.

A thousand years more
And the world may not exist,
The cause will be greed and an iron fist
The spirits will rejoice,
Mankind will not be missed.
It´s up to you
It cannot come to this.

His brother´s men at arms,
Who´ve been with him since he was a lad,
Will fight by his side for the right to survive.

The Middle Kingdom

We who are old yet fair of face,
Thousands of years this world did grace,
Beneath the earth away from men,
Our Middle Kingdom it lies hidden.
With sword in hand and our shields by our sides,
We march in hoards we will never subside.
Our DÚ Danann form has passed with time,
But still we love music and still we love wine.

We are of the forest, we are of the earth,
Our heads full of knowledge our ways full of mirth.

We know all the answers to questions unasked,
We live in the light with no fear of the dark.

It must be said we have dark evil breeds,
Who plague mankind with their mischievous deeds,
The Phooka, the Merrow, the wailing Bean-shee,
Are hideous creatures as dark as can be.

Avoid the lone thorn tree that grows in the field,
Do not cut it down with the axe that you wield,
It coarses magic from branch to root,
And woe to he who eats its fruit.
Of itself the tree did grow,
From faerie magic cast long ago,
Therefore we bid you to let it stand,
Ill fortune to those who ignore our command.

"We who are old, we are revered, born of the earth, immortal and feared"

In the dead of night see us dance on the hills,
On fiddles and flutes we play jigs and reels.
The sky is ablaze with a myriad of light,
Our faerie music is heard through the night.
We who are old yet fair of face,
Thousands of years this world did grace,
But modern man and his cynical ways,
Are bringing us to the end of our days.

Death Of A Gael

A warrior so proud of the woman by his side,
His faithful heart would take no other bride,
For three years they lived,
midst the forests of the land,
Strong and proud was the love
of this woman and man

Like the sky high above,
no beginning and no end,
The woman that he loves,
his life and best friend.
Until that day in December
when the snowstorms did start,
Stalked the Norseman with his bow,
put an arrow through his heart.

Hear the cry, the cry of the winter wind,
Blowing across the land,
stealing his life from him,
From the earth, and into the otherworld,
the land of Tír Na n-Óg,
is the place where he must go.

"Woman come to my side,
let your arms shield my pain,
For I know will not spend
another day with you again."
They say she will not move
from the place where he did die,
Once so strong and so proud,
She cannot talk but cry.

The Children Of Lir

In a time of myth and magic,
lived a man of timeless power,
Lir was his name,
but his temper had turned sour.
He would not be king of the land,
Bov Dearg was chosen instead.
Lir would pay no tribute to him,
And secretly wished he was dead.

Alas with time Lir´s wife did lie,
and he was full of great sadness,
Dearg heard this and sent word to Lir,
to meet with him in his palace.
When they met they both embraced,
Their friendship was made then.
Dearg summoned his daughter eve,
And told Lir he must marry again,

Lir´s love for Eve was as strong as with his first wife,
A seed was planted, Fionnula and Aedh were born.
But her next child birth would take away her life,
Fiachra and Conn, from their mothers stomach were torn.

Lir´s sadness knew no bounds -
he cried out to the night,
Dearg was there to comfort him
and help him see the light.
He had 4 beautiful children
and with time another bride,
Eve´s sister Aoife would stay loyal to his side.

But Aiofe had a jealous side - a canker in her mind,
She moved against the children, love for them she could not find.
She took them in her chariot to a lake not far away.
And changed them into swans like night time into day.

300 years on Derravaragh, so commenced the spell,
the children would swim to the shore, their story to tell.
300 years on the sea of Moyle, a cruel and bitter place,
The children missed their father here, the smile upon his face.

In the sea of Moyle the waves did crash,
and beat the land with might,
The rain fell fierce and the wind blew hard,
the swans all feared for their lives.
Fionnula was strong and wisest of all,
And guarded her brothers from strife.
Under her wings they hid from night,
And waited for the morning light.

Finally the day did come,
to leave this terrible sea,
300 more years to live as swans,
then they at last would be free.
To Inish Gluaire the swans did fly,
As fast as they could go.
New lands and kingdoms everywhere -
Fionnula did see down below.

There they waited, till at last the day did dawn,
The spell was ending,
they felt themselves transform.
They were now ancient,
their youth was gone forever,
And as they died,
they held hands and went together.

Ride On

True, you ride the finest horse I´ve ever seen,
Standing sixteen, one or two,
with eyes wide and green,
And you ride the horse so well,
hands light to the touch,
I could never go with you
no matter how I wanted to.

Ride on, see you,
I could never go with you
No matter how I wanted to.

When you ride into the night
without a trace behind,
Run your claw along my gut, one last time.
I turn to face an empty space
where you used to lie,
And look for a spark that lights the night
through a teardrop in my eye.


Michael Collins

A volunteer in his nations struggle
Another soldier in the G.P.O.
The rising failed - our leaders captured
The English grip would not let go
But Michael would return to lead us
In our fight to re-claim our lands
The I.R.B. will march victorious
For they shall have the upper hand

He railled men from far ans wide
To join the rebellion that lay ahead
His murder squad was formed in earnest
The secret service soon lay dead
In reprisal the British army killed
Innocent people watching a hurling game
That day would become a turning point
Irish psyche would never be the same

The customs house was set on fire
The I.R.B. became the I.R.A.
The time was nigh to call a cease-fire
July 1th would be that day
De Valera, our elected president
Knew a republic he would not get
He sent Collins to meet the British
He sent Collins to his death!

The British treaty was signed by Collins
A free state was all they would give
A step towards independence
Is better that a war we cannot win
Many people did not agree with him
Civil war split the country in two
Michael would die from an Irish bullet
He gave his best, what more could he do?

The Fall Of Gondolin

The most beautiful city built on the middle-earth
It´s splendour was highly acclaimed
The Noldor Elf grew mighty and strong
In the land were Turgon Reigned
Then Tuor was sent by Ulmo
The lord of the ocean and sea
To tell the people of Gondolin
Prepare to fight or flee

But Turgon he was stubborn
"That will I not do!"
He had grown to love his city
And the terror of Morgoth he knew

The city was discovered
And Morgoth sent his legions
Orc warriors with the fire-drakes
Led by the Balrog demons

They appeared before the gates and quickly the Gates fell
The way was now clear, through the Elven halls
The orcs of such hatred poured into the breath
With scimitars they stabbed both man and beast

The Noldor Elf advanced with hammer of wrath
And the kindred of the tree-bravely they fought
The blows from their hammers, the dint of their clubs
The orcs fell like leaves but this was not enough

The lord of the Balrogs gathered his demons
And made for the folk of the hammer
They fled in terror rather than of craft
Down in the plain they all gathered
But the fire-drake was loosed upon them
In the house of the hammer they died
Still it is sung that each Elf of the hammer
Took the lives of seven orcs to pay for their own

Gothmog drove the dragons into the cities heart
Orcs and Noldor fell under the confusion
The cold-drakes began to tear the streets apart
The Noldor began to realise the battle they´d lose

The most beautiful city built on the middle-earth
It´s splendour was highly acclaimed
The Noldor Elf grew mighty and strong
In the land were Turgon Reigned
But now it lay akin to ruins
As the fire devoured its insides
The last hope for the Elves who lived
Was to run and flee abd hide

But Turgon was a noble king
"That will I not do!"
He stayed to die in the city
The only one he knew!

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Keith Fay
Vocal / Guitar
John O´Fathaigh
John Ryan Will
Eric Fletcher
Bass Guitar
Mauro Frison
Drum / Percussion
Kieran Ball


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