| Your skin is cold, but
|
| The sun shines within your hold
|
| Your hair is gold, but you see through a goldfish bowl
|
| I feel old, sick and tired
|
| We walk the streets, gently staring, wondering what to do The sun in sheets, pouring down those streets to eyes green and blue
|
| And a ship with eight sails could come 'round the bend
|
| Or a herd of bulls charging stop lights red
|
| I’d be blind
|
| Chorus: you broke my heart danny boy
|
| Not your fault danny boy
|
| I was hanged at the doorstep, played like a two to a fourset
|
| Had like poor job in the bible by god
|
| Day comes i wake, i wake with a hard heartache
|
| I go down to your place
|
| We sit and chat, chat about new york
|
| And trips to the bayou
|
| My smile a trick, tricking me and trying not to scare you
|
| And a ship with eight sails could come 'round the ben
|
| Or a herd of bulls charging stop lights red
|
| I’d be blind |