The old tales, especially with Ireland, talk a little bit about what happens to the bard that makes it back. They’re filled with longing for the green place. Their music is never the same – either it becomes hauntingly gorgeous but unbearably sad, or they can only speak the truth so that their songs become lays of prophecy. Touch the earth, they may age but a hundred years. They’re never the same again, and so for all they walk among former friends, family and lovers they’re still apart inside. Forever.