Lyrics Soft Rain - Damien Dempsey

Soft Rain

I’m half feral out here on the edge of the city
The dark of the country flirts and entices me
But I’m drawn to the flame of Anna Livia’s domain
Like a moth to the light to the city at night
I see the bus coming and I take off running
'Cause I can’t stand to wait half an hour in this head space
I’m heading for them concrete cliffs
Under neon moons keep about you your wits
I scribbling away on the journey into town
The bay and the hills are smoothing out my frown
Any a realise that the pen, it is mightier than the sword
And a punch never hurt near as much as a bad word
The pretty big houses, off to the right
They look so all alone
I wonder if their occupants are happy
Status doesn’t love you, and money won’t phone
The bus pulls up on old Malborough Street
See the big gang with the rotten teeth
Through this concrete maze they will spend their days hunting
Powders and potions to forget regret
The Liffey cuts the city, a meandering blue vein
Ancient poetry echoes and soft rain down the lanes
I see you in the city, your face is everywhere
All of our adventures re-enacted so clear
When you coming home, my friend
To all your pals and streets again
When you coming, when you coming home, my friend
When you coming home, my friend
To all us family again
When you coming, when you coming home
To feel the soft rain sweet one day
Gentle rain is falling as I walk a golden mile
A Georgian maze of genius, intellect gone wild
A duck into a pub, into a snug, to grapple Joyce
The brown eyed barmaid is humming and she’s some voice
A few hours later, the whole place is singing
They’re following the women, her eyes shook with emotion
Every sweet note is like the last she’d ever sing
She finishes and her audience, we make the rafters ring
Different tribes they are a feast for my eyes
Deep exotic languages, guttural and ancient
The knowledge and the strength of these brand new Irish
Will temper our country, invigorate our community
Humans flow and trickle through the cuts and caves of concrete
Undercover artists paint and decorate the backstreet
Let’s walk this maze together when you get back home
I’ll cherish every minute, you’ll only be on loan
I raise a can to Brendan, on the banks of the Royal Canal
The evening sun on the water, is my beautiful pal
The sun has slipped down on this town for a thousand years
And when it rises up, out of the Irish Sea in the morning
Liverpool is yawning, a golden lane vein snakes up the Liffey to greet me
A street cleaner cheerfully winks at me
Inside me, there’s a symphony
As the sun stretches out across the black bog of Allen
Traverses the broad majestic Shannon
Creeps up the beautiful Burren, barren
Across to the mystical islands of Aran
And sprinkles gold dust over the ever young Atlantic Ocean
I’m going in, you coming?
When you coming home, my friend
To all your pals and streets again
When you coming, when you coming home, my friend
When you coming home, my friend
To all us family again
When you coming, when you coming home
To feel the soft rain sweet one day