| When we were kids he used to go over the back wall into old Dan’s scrapyard
|
| Into the snooker hall where most us kids were barred
|
| An' into the Roxy and the Stella where film stars starred
|
| That’s where me and Hopalong an' Roy Rogers got drunk and jarred
|
| And we might have been the saviour of the men
|
| The captured captain in the devil’s demon den
|
| And we might have been the magic politician in some kind of tricky position
|
| Like an old, old, old master musician we kept on wishin'
|
| We was headed for the number one hit country again
|
| And it’s true
|
| True blue
|
| Irish blue
|
| And it’s true
|
| True blue
|
| And sometimes it reminds me of you
|
| There’s an old photograph of Dan that I wish you could-a seen
|
| Of him and the boys posed, standing in St. Stephen’s Green
|
| Ya see, they were a part of the great freedom dream
|
| But they were caught and detained and are locked inside the frame
|
| Of the photograph
|
| And he might have been the clever con, the good samaritan, the rassclaut man
|
| An' he might have been the loaded gun, the charlatan of the tap dancin' fan
|
| But like an old pioneer from outer Afghanistan
|
| Headed for the number one hit country again
|
| Old Dan in a raincoat hums the very, very, very special notes
|
| Of a long lost favorite melody
|
| It reminds him of a love affair when he was young and did not care
|
| And how he parted so soft, so sadden
|
| And he might have been the laughing cavaliero, the wise old commanchero
|
| Ow, the desparate desparado, the good looking Randolph Valentino
|
| The gigolo from Glasgow
|
| But like an old, old hunter of the female buffalo
|
| He’s headed for the number one hit country again
|
| And it’s true
|
| True blue
|
| Irish blue
|
| True blue
|
| Irish blue
|
| And it’s true
|
| It’s so true
|
| Ummm, it’s true
|
| I swear I’ve said it
|
| Swear I’ve said it
|
| I swear I said it
|
| I swear it’s true
|
| And it’s true
|
| True blue
|
| Oh, its Irish blue
|
| And it’s true… |