在手机上保存，获得更好体验
Where The Wild Ones Go - The Cheeky Celt
Where the cliffs rise high from the western sea
And the wind writes songs through the heather and stone
There's a place where the wild old world still breathes
And the wandering heart feels less alone
Where the storm rolls in from the edge of time
And the waves beat drums on the iron shore
There's a fire that burns in the emerald hills
Like the voice of the land from long before
Oh the sky runs wide over Kerry and foam
Where the mountains fall to the sea below
And the wind still calls every soul back home
To the place where the wild ones go
Through the mist that moves in the valley deep
Where the rivers dream under drifting cloud
You can hear the ghosts of the ancient roads
In the thunder song rising fierce and loud
And the night comes slow on the Atlantic tide
With the stars like fires on the darkened dome
Every road I've walked leads me back again
To the land that calls my wandering home
Oh the sky runs wide over stone and sea
Where the cliffs stand tall in the dying glow
And the wind still sings through eternity
Of the place where the wild ones go
