music: Christian Donovan - lyrics: Christian Donovan

In Ireland in the County Clare
A strange old woman she lived there
On her own down in the dark woods
Close To Feakle she did dwell
And medicine she did sell
Not for silver not for gold but for food

Born two hundred years ago
Her spirit`s high her money low
Living in the small house near the lake
Taking poit’n from the still
From a deep blue bottle she will tell
Of the future but money she won`t take

Come on Biddy Early
Tell me something I do wanna know
Shake the stones and throw your rings
Read the dreg and tell me where to stay
And where to go

Sunday in the holy mass
The priest condemns her and he says
"For devil`s bitches in my church is no place.
Go away from this door,
Don`t come around here no more!
Ne`er again I want to see your face."

But still they went to Biddy
When they had something they had got to know
If the sheep won`t calve the horse would limp
They came to her with an empty purse
And with their hearts full of woe

Today the wind blows through her cot
Rusty are her cans and pots
Forsaken but not forgotten is this place
Rest for a while when you go there
Watch the dust that fills the air
But beware of the silence and the haze
Watch out or you`ll be lost in her maze