Remember clearly all those early days
Smell of grass as it turned into hay
Sound of wood burning on an open fire
Watching the sparks climbing higher higher
Remember playing in the hazel glen
Every field had a name and a game
Chasing dreams around the fairy ring
And we’d laugh
Those were such precious times
When we thought we were the Kings of Tyrone
Maybe you have forgotten
Summer days when we played in the fields of Rarogan
Remember following you to the higher ground
There we looked out over the land
You told me you could see six counties there
And we’d stare
Those were such precious times
When we thought we were the Kings of Tyrone
Maybe you have forgotten
Summer days when we played in the fields of Rarogan
I remember walking in your footsteps
Just a boy trying walk like a man
We shared names and we shared quiet times
And we’d dream
Those were such precious times
When we thought we were the Kings of Tyrone
Maybe you have forgotten
Summer days when we played in the fields of Rarogan
And when you finally had to leave you
Carried you to the head of the land
Looked out over the six counties there
And we stared
Those were such precious times
When we thought we were the Kings of Tyrone
Maybe you have forgotten
Maybe you have forgotten
Do you remember those summer days just before
The last September
From Cork, Ireland, Lewis Barfoot writes mystic, majestic songs derived from regional folk, with an ambient music aura. Bandcamp New & Notable Dec 11, 2023