The riddle

Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran
Goes around and around

And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right

Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran
Goes around and around

And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right
And he'll never fight over you

Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran
Goes around and around

And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right

Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran
Goes around and around

And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right
And he'll never fight over you

I got plans for us nights in the scullery
And days instead of me
I only know what to discuss
Of for anything but light

Wise men fighting over you

It's not me you see pieces of valentine
With just a song of mine
To keep from burning history
Seasons of gasoline and gold

Wise men fold

Near a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of Aran
Goes around and around

And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion
There's a wrong and a right
And he'll never fight over you

I got time to kill, sly looks in corridors
Without a plan of yours
A blackbird sings on bluebird hill
Thanks to the calling of the wild

Wise mens child