How can we close our eyes. Watch our world break down and die. How can we let it be. Slaves to world economy. . How can we be like wood. Watch our world cry out for food.
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We grew up in the spaces. Where the four winds blow. We left these glens and valleys. Traitors to the plough. . We thought we knew the answers. thought we had it made.
Tell me where oh where has summer gone. It hasn't come this year. You always cry when swallows fly. With doubts in search of dreams. He's a working man.
In the slipstream of luck and democracy. A victim of chance and geography. I reap and I sow the face of the earth. While big guns play games with the land of my birth.
Clann mo theaghlaich. Clann mo theaghlaich. Clann mo theaghlaich fhein. Clann mo theaghlaich. Clann mo theaghlaich. Clann mo theaghlaich fhein. . Ochd deug seisreach.
Clann mo theaghlaich. Clann mo theaghlaich. Clann mo theaghlaich fhein. Clann mo theaghlaich. Clann mo theaghlaich. Clann mo theaghlaich fhein. . Ochd deug seisreach.
It's all over now, no more summers in heaven. After World War Two wed and a life of ups and downs. I see it now, precious even on paper. A young man and his bride and someone to make time stand still.
Twelve o'clock at night. Streets of many corners. The lunar river winds. Down the closes and the lanes. The night skips the sleeping years. And reawakes the memory.
By the mountainside, by the ocean blue. Where the struggle broke my heart in two. River of millions flow downstream. A golden highway to the sea of dreams.
What makes me walk through Ireland's shrines. And Ireland's holy shores. To see a country crucified. Your beauty crowned in thorns. And as I watch that wondrous cross.
You ask me to believe in magic. Expect me to commit suicide of the heart. And you ask me to play this game without question. Raising the stakes on this shotgun roulette.