| Oh, I wish I was in Belfast
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| With some good old friends of mine
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| Some good old rough companions
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| And some good old smooth red wine
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| We could talk about the old times
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| And the old town’s sad decline
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| And drink to the boys on the road
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| Oh, I Was born in Belfast
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| In the center of the town
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| I’d take you there and show you
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| But they’ve pulled the old place down
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| And when I think about it
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| It always makes me frown
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| They bulldozed it all to make a road
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| And that great old place I miss so much
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| Has seen much better days
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| And still talk abou tit
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| As we go out separate ways
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| Ah, but Belfast gave me more
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| Than she ever took away
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| She prepared for me the life on the road
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| My mother was a cleaner
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| My grandad drove a tram
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| My father was an engineer
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| And they made me all I am
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| They have seen the city come and go
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| And still they give a damn
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| There’s so much to learn along the road
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| Repeat Chorus |