The Giant

Song written by Teresa Doyle

Cold wind in the harbor and rain on the road
But promise of Winter brings recourse to cold
There’s a fire in the blood and a bolt on the door
The Dragons will rise with the moon

‘Tis the same ancient fever from the Isles of the Bless’d
That our fathers brought with them when they came West
It’s the blood of the Druids that never will rest
The Giant will rise with the moon

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 England and weather, the deeper the bay
3000 stories and the night slips away
Remembering Fingal seems not far away
The Giant will rise with the moon

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

The wind’s from the North, there’ll be no moon tonight
And there’ll be no circle to dance in its light
So light a torch, bring the bottle, and build the fire bright
The Giant will rise with the moon

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