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The Popes
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Aisling
Lyricist:Shane Patrick Mac Gowan
Aisling
See the moon is once more rising Above our our land of black and green Hear the rebels voice is calling 'Shall not die, though you bury me'
Hear the Aunt in bed, a dying 'Where the fuck, is my Johnny?' Faded pictures in the hallway One of which these brown ghosts, is he?
Fare thee well my black haired darling Fare the well my own Aisling Thoughts and dreams of you will haunt me 'Til I come back home again
Fare thee well my black haired darling Fare the well my own Aisling Thoughts and dreams of you will haunt me 'Til I come back home again
And the wind, it blows to the north, south And blows to the east and west I'll be like the wind, my love For I shall have no rest, 'til I return to thee
And the wind, it blows to the north, south And blows to the east and west I'll be like the wind, my love For I shall have no rest, 'til I return to thee Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
Bless the wind that shakes the barley Curse the spade, curse the plough Waking in the morning early Wish to hell, I was with you now
One, two, three, four telegraph poles Give me a glass of [Incomprehensible]drink Madness from the mountains crawling When I first met you my own Aisling
Fare thee well my black haired darling Fare the well my own Aisling Thoughts and dreams of you will haunt me 'Til I come back home again
Fare thee well my black haired darling Fare the well my own Aisling Thoughts and dreams of you will haunt me 'Til I come back home again
Fare thee well my black haired darling Fare the well my own Aisling Thoughts and dreams of you will haunt me 'Til I come back home again
Fare thee well my black haired darling Fare the well my own Aisling Thoughts and dreams of you will haunt me 'Til I come back home again
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