| They sent him to Asia to fight in a war
|
| He came back home crazy and asking, What for?
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| They had him committed, oh, medals and all
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| To a mental hosipital with rubber walls
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| They cut off the funding, oh, they cut off the lights
|
| He hit the street runnin' that cold winter night
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| Now the streets are the only place he can call home
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| He seems oh, so lonely, but he’s never alone
|
| He lies there holding his wild irish rose
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| This crazy old fool in the smelly old clothes
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| He could have had something much better, God knows
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| Than a half-empty bottle of Wild Irish Rose
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| A baby named Scarlet with laughing blue eyes
|
| (Spoken)
|
| Has been in his wallet, ah! |
| way back since '65
|
| (Sang)
|
| So much was forgotten, oh, so far back in time
|
| Way down in the bottom of a river of wine
|
| (Spoken)
|
| You know, they found him at Clarkstreet, West 25th
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| They can’t even find a hearbeat, Lord, his fingers are stiff
|
| Just like they’re all frozen, he’s holding her tight
|
| (Sang)
|
| But the habit, oh, it’s broken, this is Roses' last night
|
| He lies there holding his Wild Irish Rose
|
| But his soul’s in a place where a real hero goes
|
| Now he’s got something better, much better, God knows
|
| Than a half-empty bottle of Wild Irish Rose… |