1. |
Welcome
00:28
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Yeah yeah yeah yeah
rock and roll …
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2. |
Speechless
05:32
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In Montréal
where Europe meets America
I saw Leonard Cohen’s house
and that was good
since it was the jazz festival
there were bands playing on the street corners
like I knew they always would
and a surrogate sister
took me in her arms and said
“Hey Andy, welcome to the New World”
I was speechless
Speechless
In Toronto
they’ve got the longest street in the world
and on it I found a place called
‘The Beat Bookshop’
I went in to buy a 25¢ trash novel
called “Stranger in our Midst’
round the corner
in an electrical store
an old man looked me in the eyes
he said "Son, you look speechless"
Speechless
In Washington and Philadelphia
the driving seat of this whole big country
I saw the endless horizons
parcelled up real neat
and delivered as a skyscraper in a street
the guy selling matchsticks
in the hotel lobby
the homeless queueing
outside the White House for food
left me speechless
Speechless
New York heat hit me late one night
going down to the convenience store
with big Stevie for a beer
something about the subway steam
the way cigarettes never taste
the way they do round here
and the guy playing the drums
in the back of a bus
and the rappers down on
6th Avenue and 13th Street
left me speechless
Speechless
Rain swept the Chicago streets clean
a bright shiny city all covered in lights
a clean girl from the Mid-West
told me "This city’s so good
they didn’t need to name it twice"
a second city wind
blew from across the lake
we had a bottle of wine outside for Bobby’s sake
and I was speechless
Speechless
By the time we hit Texas
our Irish skin had nearly fried
and we saw the faceless place
where in 1963
they said America died
me and Liam in a diner
you know they said our accents were outrageous
even though we were speechless
Speechless
Last stop was Atlanta
so deep in the South
the sky was clouding over
and the music came tumbling out
then the phone rang like something from a cable movie scene
calling me home from that American dream
Speechless
I was speechless
Speechless
in the hotel lobby
speechless
with my life on a trolley
speechless
like the letters I never wrote
speechless
with a lump in my throat
Then the night came dark
the moon turned black
the rain fell up and the wind blew back
I was speechless
Speechless
Just now I saw the bloated belly
of a starving child
matchstick arms and an old man’s eyes
sitting on a skull too weak to cry
he’d watched his family slowly die
in some forgotten corner of Africa
they said foreign aid was dropping
because of the war
I was speechless
Watching TV till late tonight
since the bulbs were gone
it was by candlelight
the night was dark
the moon turned black
the rain fell up and the wind blew back
and every ten seconds flashing on the screen
were the bloody banners of the American war machine
I was speechless
And the President pleading
support the war
won’t somebody tell me
what we were fighting it for
Speechless
The same now
as it was then
for we are the hollow men
our heads stuffed with straw
we are the hollow men
our heads stuffed with straw
The night fades
till we’re deep in the darkness
and we drop
The light fades
till we’re deep in the darkness
and we drop
Speechless
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3. |
Belfast poems
00:42
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Belfast Thunder
Sound of British
Irish driving
lightning
and the wait for
thunder
the thunder
concealing stereo
city centre bomb blasts
city centre Belfast summer 1992
What the thunder said
Estimated one million
pounds' worth of damage
two minor injuries
nobody dead
Thunder brings only
promise of rain round here
Thunder's saying
nothing positive round here
holes in my shoes
Rimbaud's pockets
I once more
encounter the realistic
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4. |
Religious Persuasion
04:04
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“Protestant or Catholic”
cried a voice from the crowd
“Not you again St Peter”
I was thinking aloud
should have packed my bags
headed off for the coast
had my time already come
to meet the Heavenly Host?
They switched on their halos
adjusted their harps
checked that the blades
on the pearly gates were sharp
I asked them what they meant
about religious bent
they said “That’s the test”
I said “That’s the test-ah-meant”
They were giving holy orders
I think you’ll find
I was up against persuasion
of the religious kind
It was hailing Marys
at the drop of a tract
said the 7 Deadly Sins
were staying round at my flat
I pondered on the churches
of England and Rome
hadn’t paid the rent
for my spiritual home
needed guidance from the leaders
whose names I knew
Archbishop …
and John Player Number Two
I quaked in my sackcloth
threw away my joss-stick
burned my Koran and said I was agnostic
“I mean an atheist” I cried
they moved in for the kill
the walls tumbled down as they
handed me the bill
They weren’t impressed
with my distinctions
I think you’ll find
I was up against persuasion
of the religious kind
A lamb to the slaughter
a human sacrifice
I told their spiritual leader
his sceptre looked nice
a hymn book skimmed my ear
but I was only grazed
I dived for cover
as the sawn-off Bibles blazed
in the gore I gasped
“Was it something I said?”
then a solid granite altar
hit me on the head
a collection plate plunged deep into my groin
they marched off discussing
the Battle of the Boyne
As I expired I was thinking
they’d been rather unkind
I was up against persuasion
of the religious kind
Now bleeding and naked
I was somewhat at a loss
the Good Samaritan was drinking
at the Sign of the Cross
recalling their question I felt totally alone
as I peered out from underneath
the tablets of stone
in the gutter lay the crushed
remains of a Bible
it proclaimed their grievances
were purely tribal
they made me see the light
for that I offer my thanks
I got collared by the dogs
and there’s no way I’m gonna
join their ranks
Onward Christian soldiers
I hope you don’t mind
being afflicted by religion
of the persuasive kind
You’ll find...
So if you’re visiting some Irish town
and the politicians’ heads
are stuck firmly in the ground
and the only bell ringing has a
graveyard sound
Someone’s got to stand up or
nothing’s gonna change
till religion
is rearranged
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5. |
Last Day of Summer
06:06
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Yesterday was the last day of summer
no more sitting on the steps with you
the evening sky has gone to bed forever
the yellow moon is fading out of you
If you don’t know by now
if you don’t know by now
you’ll never know it
If you don’t know by now
if you don’t know by now
Today’s the first day of autumn
the trees have changed
and the wind don’t feel the same
the fires have scorched
the hillside’s green to ochre
all because of the weather
the weatherman couldn’t explain
If you don’t know by now
if you don’t know by now
you’ll never know it
If you don’t know by now
if you don’t know by now
This was the season I started swimming
I was clinging close to the coast it’s true
and I made up some melancholy reason
I was testing out my feelings for you
If you don’t know by now
if you don’t know by now
you’ll never know it
If you don’t know by now
if you don’t know by now
We’ll never understand it
nothing ever turns out
like we planned it
like we planned it...
Never understand it...
we’ll never understand it
If you don’t know by now
sitting on the steps
the last day of summer
clinging to the coast
the last day of summer
how can I forget
the last day of summer
Sitting on the steps
the last day of summer
clinging to the coast
the last day of summer
how can I forget
the last day of summer
Looking in your eyes
I saw the sunrise
I remember
sitting on the steps with you
sitting on the steps with you
Dun Laoghaire summer 95
looking in your eyes
watching the sun go down
I was looking in your eyes
saw the sunrise
sunrise
Watching the sun go down
sitting on the steps with you
watching the sun go down
sitting on the steps with you
looking in your eyes
I saw the sunrise
on the last day of summer
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6. |
Groovy Kind of Way
04:09
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If Ireland is the stepmother of America
and America the crystal ball we gave away
I must be the fortune-teller’s grandson
come to polish it up in a groovy kind of way
Groovy kind of way
If words are the six strings of a guitar
and the guitar is the story of today
I must be the dictionary’s tightrope
come on walk on me in a groovy kind of way
Groovy kind of way
You asked me what I did
and what I wanted you to do
this is just the only way
that I can get through to you
it’s a groovy kind of way
If Eve was the one who bit the apple
and Adam was the one who wrote the play
I don’t wanna be Shakespeare I wanna be the apple
and get peeled in a groovy kind of way
And if Cherry has billion-dollar lipstick
and her smile is always telling me to stay
I must be the richest man in history
in a groovy kind of way
Groovy kind of way
You asked me what I did
and what I wanted to do
this is just the only way
that I can get through to you
in a groovy kind of way
such a groovy kind of way
And if Ireland is the stepmother of America
and America the crystal ball we gave away
I must be the fortune-teller’s grandson
come to polish it up in a groovy kind of way
Groovy kind of way
Well I’m feeling groovy...
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7. |
A Million Miles
03:49
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I can feel the breeze freeze
in the leaves on the trees
the radio down on Margaret Street
this autumn must be coming on
quicker than I ever expected
and the girls down the block
are singing so softly
it’s at times like these
everything falls into perspective
And you asked me what I’m thinking
why that’s impossible to say
in your arms I’m a million miles away
A million miles away
It all happened so fast
I knew it would last
until one of us had to crash
the only thing was
I always thought it would be me
and I still can see your face as you turned
into a long-lost photograph
we always moved so gracefully
And you asked me
what am I singing about
it must just be the time of the day
in your arms I’m a million miles away
And you asked me could I ever forget about you
to that what else is there to say
except look up at the stars
they’re a million miles away...
A million miles away
And I will watch the sun going down
over the gas-house grey
and I’ll keep telling myself
keep telling myself
you’re nothing but a million miles away
A million miles away
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8. |
James Joyce's Grave
05:38
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They said it would be hard to find
they said I might not find it at all
I started off in Dun Laoghaire
my back pressed against an old stone wall
in a Martello tower near Sandymount Strand
he said it was the centre of the world
that’s where the great adventure started
just himself and a Galway girl
Looking for James
looking for James Joyce’s grave
People say he rewrote the English language
though it was not strictly his native tongue
and many have tried since this tall skinny man put pen to paper
confused and delighted and disturbed and excited everyone
you know his country just couldn’t hold him
Samuel Beckett, Oscar Wilde, Yeats and Swift too
now it’s up to us in these enlightened days
that’s all of us, me and you should go
Looking for James
looking for James Joyce’s grave
He travelled round Europe pursued by debt
I found his grave out in Switzerland
in a neutral country in 1941in a land fit for exiles
where the light was at last shut out from his eyes
I asked at the hotel they didn’t know
told me to go to the train station
at the train station they told me to go to information
and information mentioned a zoo and a beautiful view of the city
On the way I saw a dog as small as a mouse
I saw a dog as big as a house
I saw a puppet playing 'Lucille’ by Little Richard in a market square
and hundreds and thousands of tiny black and white ballroom dancers
whirling sporadically and magnetically in a shop window
On the way I stopped off in a bar café
brimming full of beautiful black-clothed syringe-stoned people
playing dice backgammon round splintered tables
anarchist literature on the floor
expressionist art on the wall and
death metal raging from a cracked speaker in the corner
Looking for James
looking for James Joyce’s grave
I finally found his grave
high on a hill just beside the zoo
with a beautiful view of the city
first I saw the statue
cigarette smoking keeper and crucifier
of our country’s conscience
and all of our unconscience
in an autumn crescent
of gold green and brown
I brushed the fallen leaves
off the inscription plaque
which was just beside the zoo
and it had such a beautiful view of the city
Looking for James
looking for James Joyce’s grave
I remember writing this song
back page of the evening paper
my home city in the rain
lights coming on
Saturday evening
I was ready to go looking again
Looking for James
looking for James Joyce’s grave
The soul of the country
lies in the heart of the river
for love wanders there
pale flowers on his mantle
dead leaves on his hair
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9. |
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When you’re sitting in your chair
wondering why the street’s not there
reality’s the place between a man and a woman
Between a man and a woman
between a man and a woman
Sunlight on the garden wall
you promised not to cry at all
reality’s a space between a man and a woman
Between a man and a woman
between a man and a woman
The bedroom moon has gone away
it’s starless as the darkling day
I look into your holy eyes
and I hold my breath and I realise...
The president is counting seven
I’m upside down with my baby in heaven
reality’s the place between a man and a woman
Between a man and a woman
between a man and a woman
The age of innocence has gone
night on earth may be still far too long
reality is not just made in heaven
not just made in heaven
not just made in heaven...it’s
Between a man and a woman
between a man and a woman
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10. |
Travelling Circus
04:58
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I first met her in Belfast city
where the trees fall gently in the rain
she was wearing a coat of amber
and a ring of flame
We took up with each other
for how long I don’t know
cos the time just slips
I saw heaven in her skin so silver
and the tips of her fingertips
How could I know she would not tarry
and I would lose my way
her light has gone
would it could brighten
would it could brighten up my day
So I’m going back to Belfast city
where the trees now stand tall and bare
for she has fallen into the arms of another
no longer can I touch the poetry in her hair
I will not rest till I have found her
I will not reason all along the way
for life is just a travelling circus
that stops off when it rains
Life is just one great big travelling circus,
that stops off when it rains
I wish I had you in Carrickfergus
only two miles from Ballygran
I would swim over
the deepest ocean
only to have you
right by my side
Life is just a great big travelling circus
that stops off when it rains
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11. |
Jacqui
04:45
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They’re burning the cars
in Shankill tonight
all the petrolheads are here
outside your house
they scorched the grass
and you turned to me
and you laughed about it
Jacqui
you could make a man
out of nothing at all
Jacqui
sets me free
Your family sits round the table tonight
I can feel my troubles slipping away
the waves are crashing on the beach down the road
and you turned to me
and you laughed about it
Jacqui
you could make a man
out of nothing at all
Jacqui
sets me free
she sets me free
Cos you’re the one
who could really help them
you know the t-shirt boys aren’t that tough
just they don’t know how to love themselves
and they’re all hooked up on alcohol and drugs
Jacqui
you could make a man
out of nothing at all
Jacqui
sets me free
she sets me free
I would have given you all of my loving
for now and the rest of your lives
I would have given you all of my loving
but if you want to be like the other ones
if you want to be like the other ones
it’s alright...
Jacqui says it’s alright
then she sets me free
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12. |
Home
02:00
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There is a spirituality
comes from movement
I knew
as melancholy wandering
I stepped onto the Sandycove Dart
and stepped onto the Belfast train
at Connolly Station
with a slightly out of date ticket
and my writings in a blue folder
The train stopped at stations
I’d never heard of before
as it creaked its way up North
through the dark
and across the invisible indivisible border
I read about the European financial crisis
and looked at the window reflection
of myself looking at
the window reflection of myself
thinking of you
I stepped off the train at Botanic
– the surprise stop –
and found myself once more
stepping out on Botanic Avenue
tree-lined guardian of Belfast’s left bank
I stepped into the Lavery’s din
ordered a pint of Guinness
and smoked two cigarettes fast
someone showed me tickets for
my concert next Friday
– which proved it existed –
and then I was leaning on a bus shelter
waiting for the 59 to carry me up
the Lisburn Road
An old man shouted through his glasses
"Here comes my drunken ship"
as I stepped on the bus
the driver laughed about the new fares
and I asked him for as far as the Regal
a long burnt-out built-over cinema
now desirable as flats
Every paving stone of the walk to our house
is familiar to me
and this brings ownership
ringing the bell
the hall light on
father’s greeting and
mother’s embrace
There is a spirituality
comes from movement
and it’s quiet in this house
where up I grew
with its strangely shaped white walls
father’s presence
sisters elsewhere
and mother everywhere
My writing’s in two suitcases
and a blue folder
unpremeditated
four albums piled high
toothbrush on hold
familiar shapes all around me
guitar cases
books frozen in time
exam certificates
a degree in a drawer
a child’s paintings
an old packing basket
& these street scenes from my heart
wrapped up in a Zürich airport
duty free bag
for you
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13. |
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I’m leaning on a lamp post
listening to the Russian violin
Old Arbat Moscow ’92
new sensations rushing in
I’m talking to a man from Azerbaijan
about nothing in particular
wondering what makes me me, him him
and us individular
I could show you
shadows from afar
right now what I prefer is
street scenes from my heart
Beautiful dark-haired girls
singing ‘Suicide Blonde’
thinking about the future
and what side they’ll be on
well I seen this once
and I seen it twice
and the third time I seen it
it wasn’t very nice
I could show you
shadows from afar
right now what I prefer is
street scenes from my heart
And if you don’t hear
you’re not listening
and if you don’t understand
I don’t care
You might have changed your trousers
and changed your shoes
and gone down town
cut your hair
you read a paper
and you sit in a café
wondering about it all
and if it’ll all just go away
I could show you
shadows from afar
right now what I prefer is
street scenes from my heart
I’m leaning on a bus stop
listening to the Laverys din
Bradbury Place spring ’93
all these old sensations rushing back on in
and I’m talking to a lad from Craigavad
about nothing in particular
wondering what makes me me
and him him
us all individular
I could show you
shadows from afar
but right now what I prefer is
street scenes from my heart …
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14. |
You and your Blue Skies
08:08
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Open up
if you’ve got anything hidden
I can promise you nothing’s forbidden
if you come on round here
Your velvet gloves
take them off and turn on
though you say nothing is wrong
let your hair fall long
and why shouldn’t you
why shouldn’t you
I’ve tried everything I know
to get through to you
there is something wrong
if I know you
you and your skies so blue
You should know
that when you wear that perfume fatal
and your keys fall off of the table
and you say that life’s been hateful
that it’s only incidental
to you and your fateful promise
I should know
that when the lines in your heart
have been broken
and too many words thought
have been spoken
and the world’s not spinning it’s joking
and if nothing remains
there’s still hoping
why shouldn’t I
why shouldn’t I
I’ve tried everything I know
to get through to you
there is something wrong
if I know you
you and your skies so blue
Well I’ll be here in waiting
till you’ve had enough
of that engagement
and so-called romantic arrangements
and semi-permanent relationships
and one too many estrangements
why shouldn’t I
why shouldn’t I
I’ve tried everything I know
to get on through to you
there is something wrong
if I know you
you and your skies so blue
She’s so fine
she’s so pretty
she is the belle of Belfast city
She’s so fine
she’s so pretty
she is the belle of Belfast city
She’s getting married in the morning
what a bloody pity
That’s it
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15. |
Acoustic Guitar
03:31
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Why don’t you play it
on your acoustic guitar
Why don’t you play it
on your acoustic guitar
The cold rush of loneliness
the power of pure poetry
a girl I once knew now invisible
the cold rush of loneliness
and the power and the poverty of poetry
the woman I know now
me and her indivisible
Why don’t you play it
on your acoustic guitar
Why don’t you play it
on your acoustic guitar
It doesn’t matter who you are
you just got to play things as they are
why don’t you play it
on your acoustic guitar
Dark sunglasses not dark enough
I got riots in my head and all that stuff
vulnerability that’s more my scene
talking about thoughts of the heart
if you know what I mean
Why don’t you play it
on your acoustic guitar
Why don’t you play it
on your acoustic guitar
It doesn’t matter who you are
you just got to play things as they are
why don’t you play it
on your acoustic guitar
Anyone who’s ever been in love
knows about waiting
anyone who’s ever been in love
finds it frustrating
why don’t you play it
on your acoustic guitar
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
rock and roll
yeah yeah yeah yeah
rock and roll
Hedgehogs in the headlights
banners on the streetlights
la-la-la-la-la-la-lasting peace
is a permanent phase
the test explodes
if you’re combing your hair
and the room’s revolving
but you don’t know where
Why don’t you play it
on your acoustic guitar
Why don’t you play it
on your acoustic guitar
It doesn’t matter who you are
you just got to play it
on your acoustic guitar
your acoustic guitar...
It doesn’t matter who you are
just play it on your acoustic guitar
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16. |
See-through Smoker
01:55
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The see-through skin
of a strict smoker
in the second class
smoking section
is so see-through...
the see-through skin
of a strict smoker
in the second class
smoking section
is so see-through
that he may well
be dead already
as he is so slumped
so slumped is he
see-through eyes shut
deep in the second class
smoking section
He’s dead already
thus avoiding one or more
major diseases
and of course serious steady
cigarette expenditure
diurnal
hebdomidal
mensual
seasonal and annual
cigarette expenditure
The skin of the
see-through second class smoker
could have been fashioned
by Mr Phillip Morris himself
so multinational and
interdenominational is its
translucence and its
pallor
So brief may have been the
strict cigarette smoker’s
stay upon this earth that
he should have stuck himself
in the first class smoking section
and splashed out
while it lasted
But hark!
The sleeper stirs
and rubs his
sleepy translucent eyelids
stretches his
see-through skin
and reaches around
struggling for another
shot
With his see-through skin
in the second class smoking section
the strict smoker
will fight
to live
another day
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17. |
The Last Fantastic Book
02:43
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Plastic and oh so limited
the last fantastic book
queued up for its final perfect poems
they came in one by one
their heads bowed
humble
in languorously long lines
and short ones
too
The last fantastic book took one look at a world
where word no longer took hold
screwed up its eyes and jumped
out
up
into the dark
And the people looked up from their screens
and were woken from their dreams
their electronic dreams
and marvelled at the wonder in the sky
the passing flash of the nearest newest star –
the last fantastic book
A scribbled stealthy secret satellite
of syntax and verbal symmetry
The last fantastic book
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18. |
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Peace
sounds like
the sound of no helicopters
Previous
city of car blasts
is strangely quiet
because
peace sounds like
the sound of no helicopters
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19. |
Don't be Afraid
04:51
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I hear the sound of no sound
and I know it’s the sound
of the world spinning round
for the first time
this part of the world
for the first time
this part of the world
I hear the sound of no sound
and I know it’s the sound
of the world spinning round
for the first time
this part of the world
for the first time
this part of the world
It seems possible to me
though impossible to see
how all of us can agree
I saw a sign
saying ‘Peace In Our Time’
and I know it’s a sign
don’t be afraid
don’t be afraid
It seems possible to me
though impossible to see
how all of us can agree
I hear a choice comes from one voice
I saw a sign saying ‘Peace In Our Time’
and I hear the sound of no sound
and I know it’s the sound
of the world spinning round
for the first time
this part of the world
Anything you wanna do
and anything you wanna say
anything you wanna do
Don’t be afraid
For your country
is my country
and my people
are your people
We are a motherland
send our children out into the world
deep inside we are heartbroken
Now it’s time
to heal ourselves
Don’t be afraid
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20. |
Yeah yeah
00:31
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Yeah yeah yeah yeah
rock and roll
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Andy White Belfast, UK
Belfast songwriter, has guitar wants to travel. Latest album - Good Luck I Hope You Make It
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