As I walked by an ancient wall

(All along the straight and stony track)

I met an old man with a crystal ball,

(It narrows and you can't go back)

And this old man he sang a song,

About the time when the days were long.

'When I was young and in me prime,

I went to sea and I served me time,

Sowed me seed in a foreign bed,

Smuggled brandy and negrohead..

But soon me sailin' days were done,

The bell had tolled, the glass had run.

I came with the sea roke to the moors,

Selling corks at cottage doors.

I came to an inn in the winter snow,

There was no room, so I had to go

Out in the wind and the driving rain

Still trapped in time here I remain...'

On a summer's day by an old sheepfold,

They found my bones in a pile of mould...

So I asked the old man who sang the song,

Does the path get narrower further on?

'It's just a trick of eye and mind,

For everywhere it's just as wide,

I said my goodbyes and then was gone,

But soon the path narrowed and I couldn't go on...

I turned back to the place where the wind blew free,

To find the old man who'd lied to me...

All I found were his bones where the pathway forks,

All I found was pile of rainsoaked corks,

Then I knew there was no way back

Along this straight and stony track....