(Shane MacGowan)
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The last time I saw you was down at the Greeks
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There was whiskey on Sunday and tears on our cheeks
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You sang me a song as pure as the breeze
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Blowing up the road to Glenaveigh
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I sat for a while at the cross at Finnoe
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Where young lovers would meet when the flowers were in bloom
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Heard the men coming home from the fair at Shinrone
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Their hearts in Tipperary wherever they go
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Take my hand, and dry your tears babe
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Take my hand, forget your fears babe
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There's no pain, there's no more sorrow
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They're all gone, gone in the years babe
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I sat for a while by the gap in the wall
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Found a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball
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Heard the cards being dealt, and the rosary called
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And a fiddle playing Sean Dun na nGall
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And the next time I see you we'll be down at the Greeks
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There'll be whiskey on Sunday and tears on our cheeks
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For it's stupid to laugh and it's useless to bawl
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About a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball
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So I walked as day was dawning
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Where small birds sang and leaves were falling
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Where we once watched the row boats landing
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By the broad majestic Shannon
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The Broad Majestic Shannon
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| The Pogues |
