Near a tree by a river there's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of iron goes around and around
And his mind he's a beacon in the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion there's a wrong and a right
But he'll never
Never fight over you
Near a tree by a river
Where an old man of iron
And his mind he's a beacon
For a strange kind of fashion
Near a tree by a river there's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of iron goes around and around
And his mind he's a beacon in the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion there's a wrong and a right
But he'll never
Never fight over you
Near a tree by a river there's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of iron goes around and around
And his mind he's a beacon in the veil of the night
For a strange kind of fashion there's a wrong and a right
But he'll never
Never fight over you