was down at the Greeks
There was whiskey on Sunday and tears on our cheeks
Picking up the guitar here playing along with A Pair of Brown Eyes
You sang me a song that was pure as the breeze
On the road leading up Glenaveigh
I sat for a while
At the cross at Finnoe
Where young lovers would meet
When the flowers were in bloom
Do you remember that night up the glenshane pass
I kissed your lips and I groped your ass
Will it be accents or hearts in???
Heard the men coming home from the fair at Shinrone,
Their hearts in Tipperary wherever they go
There’s no pain.
There’s no more sorrow.
They’ve all gone,
Gone in the years babe.
What a song,
Littered with wonderful imagery about innocent times of a couple, and then hit with a stinging chorus about crippling emotional pain.
I sat for a while by a gap in the wall
You sing it how you like bro, don’t let those sing song nazis put you off
The worms crawl in and the worms crawl out
The ones that crawl in are lean and thin
The ones that crawl out are fat and stout