| The territorial drums a waltz on a loaded gun
|
| The viper flexes, coiling on the vine
|
| And the irises are sinking in the rain
|
| Idiots drown the sound of a distant train
|
| The blind man plays his instrument and sings
|
| In the Irish Sea the ichthyosaurus swims
|
| The Reverend Ian Paisley grabs his god and shouts
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| The Pope sits in the Vatican and doubts
|
| The generous American is loosening his belt
|
| Savouring his childhood in an after-dinner mint
|
| And the rosebuds are sinking in the rain
|
| Radios drown the sound of a distant train
|
| The blind man’s bow leaves resin on the strings
|
| In the Irish Sea the rattlesnake swims
|
| On the feast day of St Patrick, like the poet Valery
|
| A soldier pours a glass of blood red wine into the sea
|
| The sun can never shine through the censorship of clouds
|
| In this city of open secrets and sudden shrouds
|
| And the astors are sinking in the rain
|
| Automatics drown the sound of a distant train
|
| The blind old man’s accordion is torn
|
| In the Irish sea the adders swarm
|
| And in a Ballymena farmhouse a widow goes to bits
|
| And sometimes she remembers him and sometimes she just sits
|
| And as for the troubles, don’t count us out
|
| Sometimes we’re unbiased observers, sometimes louts
|
| While the tiger lilies crumple in the rain
|
| Television drowns the sound of a distant train
|
| The blind man pours the spit from an old trombone
|
| In the Irish Sea the tapeworms twist and turn
|
| The moon is a sergeant major who rises and recruits
|
| In the terraces of Belfast, in the back streets of Beirut
|
| Sitting on a bed while I watch you from behind
|
| Skinny as a child, guilt-free, your face unlined
|
| And the violets are sinking in the rain
|
| Videos drown the sound of a distant train
|
| The blind old man has smashed his violin
|
| In the Irish Sea the vipers swim
|
| Could’ve been your conscience but I guess that never works
|
| So treat me like an equal till it hurts
|
| I violetti surrendono per te
|
| I canali la torre di Babel
|
| I violini piangono per che
|
| Io sto morendo in questo hotel
|
| I violetti surrendono per te
|
| I canali la torre di Babel
|
| I violini piangono per che
|
| Io sto morendo in questo hotel
|
| La la la la la la la la la la la
|
| La la la la la la la la la la la
|
| La la la la la la la la la la la
|
| Di di di di di di di di di di di
|
| Di di di di di di di di di di di
|
| Di di di di di di di di di di di
|
| Da da da da da da da da da da da
|
| Da da … |