[Spoken Intro – Male Narrator] [Ancient forest, leaves moving softly, distant wooden flute] "They say an old tree remembers every hand that ever touched its bark. But once each year, on the longest night... it dreams." [Verse 1 – Male Lead] Beyond the hill, beyond the stones, where roots embrace forgotten bones, an ancient oak still guards the glade, older than the roads we made. I rested there beneath its crown, while winter stars came drifting down. I closed my eyes against the cold... and dreamed a dream that wasn't mine. [Pre-Chorus – Male Lead] The branches moved without a breeze, and voices whispered through the leaves: [Whispered Choir] Cuimhnich... [Chorus – Male Lead] Dream, old tree, dream through me, of all the lives your roots have seen. Keep every laughter, every tear, every soul that rested here. When names are gone and stones have grown, when every road forgets its home, still beneath your endless green... the old tree dreams what we have been. [Verse 2 – Male Lead] I saw two lovers, young and shy, carve both their names beneath July. He promised he would meet her there, then years went drifting through the air. I saw a soldier touch the tree, one trembling hand against its leaves. He swore that he would come back home... the ancient oak knew he would not. [Memory Passage – Male Narrator] [Harp and distant fiddle] Years later, an old woman came. She placed her hand upon the bark and smiled as though she'd found an old friend waiting there. Beside her stood a little child. [Child – Spoken Softly] "Was the tree always this tall?" [Male Narrator – Spoken] The old woman smiled. She had no need to answer. For somewhere among the leaves, I heard the memory of her voice: "We grew old together." [Whispered Choir] Cuimhnich... Na dìochuimhnich... [Instrumental Break] [Expressive fiddle plays the ancient tree leitmotif] [Celtic harp answers] [Deep cello slowly enters] [Wooden flute echoes through the forest] [Soft bodhrán begins like a distant heartbeat] [Orchestral strings gradually rise] [Verse 3 – Male Lead] I watched the cottages appear, then disappear through passing years. Children ran where graves would lie, new stars were named beneath the sky. A thousand winters dressed the ground, a thousand springs returned with sound. Kings became forgotten names... but still the ancient branches grew. [Bridge – Male Lead, Intimate] Then suddenly the dream grew still. No yesterday. No ancient hill. Instead I saw beneath that tree... an older man. And he was me. A child beside me touched the bark beneath the morning's fading stars, then looked at me and softly asked: [Child – Spoken Softly] "How old is this tree?" [Male Narrator – Spoken] I looked into those ancient branches... and smiled. [Final Chorus – Male Lead] Dream, old tree, dream through me, of those who were and those to be. Keep every laughter, every tear, and every heart that wandered here. When I am dust beneath your green, remember everything I've seen. For we are leaves upon your song... we come... we fall... you carry on. [Outro – Male Narrator] [Music falls to Celtic harp, soft fiddle and leaves] "How old is this tree?" [Pause] "Older than our names... and younger than tomorrow." [Whispered Choir] Cuimhnich... [One morning bird] [Soft wind through leaves] [Fade Out]
