As I walked by an ancient wall
(All along the straight and stony track)
I met an old man with a crystal ball,
(It narrows and you can't go back)
And this old man he sang a song,
About the time when the days were long.
'When I was young and in me prime,
I went to sea and I served me time,
Sowed me seed in a foreign bed,
Smuggled brandy and negrohead..
But soon me sailin' days were done,
The bell had tolled, the glass had run.
I came with the sea roke to the moors,
Selling corks at cottage doors.
I came to an inn in the winter snow,
There was no room, so I had to go
Out in the wind and the driving rain
Still trapped in time here I remain...'
On a summer's day by an old sheepfold,
They found my bones in a pile of mould...
So I asked the old man who sang the song,
Does the path get narrower further on?
'It's just a trick of eye and mind,
For everywhere it's just as wide,
I said my goodbyes and then was gone,
But soon the path narrowed and I couldn't go on...
I turned back to the place where the wind blew free,
To find the old man who'd lied to me...
All I found were his bones where the pathway forks,
All I found was pile of rainsoaked corks,
Then I knew there was no way back
Along this straight and stony track....