In Gneeves Bog In May

The old ways of doing things to change does give way
Perhaps nowadays there are no shlaun men in Gneeves in May
In Irish bogs the peat cutting machines are now the in thing
To rural ways great changes time with it does bring

So few things in life ever do seem to last
I have been told that shlaun men in Gneeves are now of the past
Shlaun men in Ireland are a rare breed today
The changes keep happening and time ticks away

It is said that one peat cutting machine digs out more peat than fifty men could in a day
The last of the shlaun men showing their years in gray
And only the memories nowadays do remain
Of the what used to be and will not be again

But Nature does seem an unchangeable thing
The skylark in May above Gneeves does sing
A musical speck in the gray of the sky
As up to the cloud world he sing as he fly

His partner cloaked by the bracken in her simple ground nest
Warming to life the larks of the future in the eggs neath her breast
After the life from the last shlaun man has long gone
The creatures of Nature will be living on

Few if any shlaun men are working nowadays in Gneeves in May
Time brings with it changes as the wise one does say
But above the high bog-land in the prime of the Spring
The little brown lark in the gray clouds does sing.