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Celtic-Rock, J-pop, Folk. Irish and Japanese Fusion. Lyrics: I stood upon the Giant’s path where basalt meets the spray, With a circuit in my pocket and a debt I couldn't pay. I saw a fox with nine gold tails beneath a hawthorn tree, She spoke in silver dialect and beckoned unto me: Leave the salt and leave the stone, the iron road is calling, To a land where cherry blossoms are the only snow that's falling. High on the wire, low in the glen, We’re chasing the ghosts of the gods and of men! From the cliffs of Moher to the lights of the Ginza, The song of the fiddle, the soul of the ninja! 風が吹く—the gale starts to rise, With the mist of the North in a Tokyo sky! I woke within a forest made of glass and glowing light, Where the puca hides in claw machines in the middle of the night. I traded my old wooden flute for a wire and a spark, But the tune remained the same as we danced within the dark. The Kitsune took my hand and said, The weave is never-ending, It’s just an ancient melody the satellites are sending. 手をつなぐ, across the digital divide, Nowhere left to run, and nowhere left to hide. The spirit in the motherboard, the spirit in the well, One is a story that the living choose to tell! High on the wire, low in the glen, We’re chasing the ghosts of the gods and of men! From the cliffs of Moher to the lights of the Ginza, The song of the fiddle, the soul of the ninja! 風が吹く—the gale starts to rise, With the mist of the North in a Tokyo sky! Across the sea... Across the sea...