| On A Tuesday In Amsterdam Long Ago |
|---|
| A picture of Amsterdam |
| Bare trees under glass |
| Framed in the gray and white afternoon light |
| Of a winter long past |
| When I was a riser |
| To Dublin I’d roam |
| She was a bareback rider |
| Some miles from home |
| Come back to me |
| Come back to me |
| Come back to me |
| Come back to me |
| She’s a carnival diver |
| Hung in the sky |
| Cutting through time like a memory |
| Strung on a wire |
| The color of anything |
| Fades in the air |
| She is the film of a book of the story |
| Of the smell of her hair |
| Come back to me |
| Come back to me |
| Come back to me |
| Come back to me |
| When everything’s over |
| And everything’s clear |
| When everyone’s older |
| And no one is here |
| I try to remember |
| A girl on a wire |
| Tumbling and diving above Stephen’s Green |
| Like a kite on the air |
| Come back to me |
| Come back to me |
| Come back to me |
| Come back to me |
