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September 1913

Artist:The Waterboys  Album:Live and Unreleased Songs  Writer:SCOTT MICHAEL/WICKHAM STEPHEN PATRICK  Composer:SCOTT MICHAEL/WICKHAM STEPHEN PATRICK 

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Scott-Wickham-Yeats What need you being come to sense But fumble in a greasy till And add the halfpence to the pence And prayer to shivering prayer until. You've dried the marrow from the bone For men were born to pray and save, pray and save Romantic Ireland's dead and gone It's with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave. Yet they were of a different kind Those names that stilled your childish play They have gone about the world like wind But little time had they to pray. For whom the hangman's rope was spun And what, God help us, could they save, could they save ? Romantic Ireland's dead and gone It's with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave. Was it for this the wild geese spread ? The grey wing upon every tide For this that all that blood was shed For this Fitzgerald died.



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