Laughing, music, dancing, music all around the roomĪnd all the little boys come around, walking away from it all Throwing pennies at the bridges down belowĪnd as you leave, the room is filled with music On that train from Dublin up to Sandy Row She jumps up and says "Lord, have mercy I think that it's the cops"Īnd immediately drops everything she gots
You're getting weaker and your knees begin to sag With your folded arms and history books you glance Gone for cigarettes and matches in the shopsĪ sitting on a sofa playing games of chance The kids out in the street collecting bottle-tops He's much older now with hat on drinking wineĪnd that smell of sweet perfume comes drifting through With a childlike vision leaping into viewĬlicking and clacking of the high heeled shoe
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