Name: Of Dreams That Come (Grá geal mo chroí)
Channel: w/m: Schumacher, 2025
Description: Fast, Irish rock song combining acoustic and electric elements. Great energy. Will be featured on upcoming Mac Tíre album.

Of Dreams That Come (Grá geal mo chroí)

Schumacher

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Single $1.25

Fast, Irish rock song combining acoustic and electric elements. Great energy. Will be featured on upcoming Mac Tíre album.

acoustic folk fast irishmusic pogues irishrock schumacher

Schumacher

Schumacher's progressive music styles - Progressive, Celtic, Acoustic.

Schumacher's music embraces a wide range of musical styles - a true blend of Progressive Rock, Celtic, and classical music arrangements. We try to make people feel, to capture and reflect emotion, and help others as their lives are touched by both good and bad. Our success is not our sales, but the comments listeners leave about how a song touched their hearts. Check out "The Snake in the Grass" or "The Buffalo Dance" for a snapshot of the band's acoustic-progressive work.

Song Info

Genre

Rock • Folk Rock

Charts

#742 today Peak #1

#59 in subgenre Peak #1

Author

w/m: Schumacher, 2025

Rights

Uploaded

January 06, 2025

Track Files

MP3

MP3 8.0 MB • 256 kbps • 4:20

Meta Data

BPM

120

Beat

4/4

Key

G maj

Character

Energy

relaxed, cool

high-energy

Danceable

coffee-place

dancefloor

Positivity

dark, sad, angry

happy

Appeal

unique

radio-friendly

Story behind the song

Memories of Ireland.

Lyrics

Of Dreams That Come (Grá geal mo chroí)

Staring out my window,
through winters pale blue light,
Imagining cliffs that fall to sea,
Brings memories to my mind
Of places seen,
And yet to find. 
Of dreams that never came to light. 
Of lovers walking hand in hand at night. 

Where crashing waves and seabirds cry, 
With shades of gold in morning's light.
A bracing kiss upon weathered face, 
A timeless scene of wildness yet such grace.
Grá geal mo chroí, this untamed, sacred place.

The city lights are blinding, 
and crowds a restless sea, 
but in my dreams, I'm walking free, 
where green hills call to me. 
The growls of traffic,
they fade away, 
the noisy streets a slow decay, 
replaced by whispering winds at Galway Bay.

The emerald hills beneath the sky, 
The fields and stones, where secrets lie. 
The heather blooms in purple hue,
across the barren moor so grey and blue.
Grá geal mo chroí, these words are fair and true.

From County Cork to Donegal, 
May your souls rise and ever soar. 
Come gents and ladies, young and old, 
In every heartbeat, oh, your tale is told.
Come sunshine or come dark,
Like flint and steel, a spark,
In every beating heart,
Our tale is told.

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