Tir-na-nog

impossible songs

impossible songs

Dreaming of Tir-na-nog

Nations raging as indifference prevails
Night falls and the candles flicker and fail
In the sunset.
Reminders of the explosions in the past
The failures and the final gasps.
The evening draws its funeral watch
The mind claws for its conscious reward
Here are the efforts of the day
All things dreamt and imagined pass away

New to you I come
Tired and silent
To the beating of a hollow drum
Still in a Celtic fog
I lay me down in Tir-na-nog

Celtic beauty, American shade
Turn the world to purple the eyes away
I lay me down in this Western fog
Steal my soul for Tir-na-nog.

Motorway Services.

Young boy with a Ferrari and nowhere to go
Heads for the motorway services for a quick espresso
Scally friends out there, with a Porsche and a Jag
Never mind where the money comes from or who carries the bag.

Make a tidy living down among the duds
Spend the cash on this and that and steal the soapy suds
Have a scheme for getting out but never let it work
Trapped by the immobiliser, wheels spin in the dirt.

Spinning in the dirt.
Spinning through the dirt.
This is all the dirt.