Latimer/Hoover
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Listen now boys,
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my grandmother said -
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I'll tell you a story and
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then off to bed.
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There once was a time,
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we lived off the land.
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Harvest would come,
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and we all lent a hand
|
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But winds blew our lives,
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and scattered our seeds.
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Changing the landscape,
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from flowers to weeds.
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See in the graveyard
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the families gone.
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The grandest of tombstones
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carry them on...
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When you sail from the Harbour,
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It's your last eyes of Ireland.
|
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We tended the fire,
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and faeries appeased
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the flame never died
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until we had to leave.
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And when we were gone,
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the house tumbled down
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and covered our footprints,
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we'd left on the ground.
|
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When you sail from the Harbour,
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It's your last eyes of Ireland.
|
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My eyes are now tired
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and no longer see.
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But visions of Ireland
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linger in me.
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So carry your past
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in the rooms of your heart
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and you'll never he empty
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of love when you part
|
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When you sail from the Harbour,
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It's your last eyes of Ireland.
|
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-----------------
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Eyes Of Ireland
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| Camel |
