When the Grey Mist Lands

[Nigma]

The past can really take you back... But Irelands our native land




Above me, my son Abe is asking, pa pa, why’d you stay? You sat and
Lasted eight years to the day, in fact, Potato Famine taints your land
What Abe don’t grasp, theres ways which we could stay, adapt
Grew a kid of labour, trained to trap. Lay them down in blades of grass
Pray to get a great big catch and gazing at a family, hungry
And a gun goes bang, would scare them, couldn't take the chance
Our aims fantastic, barrelless, it’s arrows in our strained elastics
Drag it back for Mama who would bag the meat that's bad, then
Me and dad, as hunters, take the sack as bait to catch it’s mate
Maintain the stash we ate from, trait of man to take no glamour
Stacked beside the gate we had a paved-in patch to axe swing
And the blade would slash the oak tree at an angle, into fractions
I would take them to the stove so we could bake them into rations
Because Mama made the pasta dashed with basil, glazed in flax seed
But the ache still stabs me, damn, it takes me back, the seasons changing
No more people out this way, so the meals were samples, all occasions
It had seared your Grandma badly, she appeared so hollow, vacant
And one day, exhaustion takes her. Certain fact, her cheeks amazing
So we ate her, sadly, she was first to pass and she looked tasty…
But we made it, days grew happier, the pain was soothed away
And we grew a great potato crop, the same way that it used to be.
I married off a maiden, she got pregnant and produced you, Abe
You grew up raised to wait your turn, to stomach every vegetable
That sometimes they are scarce, so taste is nothing, its digestible
If nothing, it will rescue you from suffering, a lesson for what's coming
The men said plague is coming back, it’s stressful but it’s coming
I mentioned to your Mom that my repentance had been summoned
Cause my energy had plummeted, my mettles an encumbrance
So the day that I drew breathless she dissected me to eat, like deer
The reason that you're even here regretting what your teeth had pierced
You stand beside my tomb, alive, and grieving through a sea of tears
From underneath my grave I say these words I wish that he could hear