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Versuri Tones Wolfe - Padraic Pearseof New York

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Videoclipuri Tones Wolfe Padraic Pearseof New York
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I was eighteen years old when I went down to Dublin

With a fistfull of money and a cartload of dreams

Take your time said me father stop rushing like hell

And remember all's not what it seems to be.

For there's fellas would cut ye for the coat on yer back

Or the watch that ye got from yer mother

So take care me young buck-o and mind yourself well

And will you give this wee note to me brother.

At the time Uncle Benjy was a policeman in Brooklyn

And me father the youngest, looked after the farm

When a phone call from America said send the lad over

And the oul fella said 'sure it wouldnt do any harm'

For I've spent my life working this dirty old ground

For a few pints of porter and the smell of a pound

And sure maybe there's something you learn loyalty

And you can bring it back home

Make a duty on me.

So I landed at Kennedy and a big yellow taxi

Carried me and me bags through the streets and the rain

Well me poor heart was thumpin' around with excitement

And I hardly ever heard what the driver was saying

We came in the Shore Parkway to the Flatlands in Brooklyn

To me Uncle's apartment on East 53rd

I was feeling so happy 1 was humming a song

And I sang 'You're as free as a bird.'

Well to shorten the story what I found out that day

Was that Benjy got shot down in an uptown foray

And while I was flying my way to New York

Poor Benjy was lying in a cold city morgue.

Well I phoned up the ould fella told him the news

I could tell he could hardly stand up in his shoes

And he wept as he told me Go ahead with the plans

And not to forget be a proud Irish man.

So I went up to Nellies beside Fordham Road

And I started to learn about lifting the load

But the heaviest thing that I carried that year

Was the bittersweet thoughts of my hometown so dear

I went home that December 'cause the oul fella died

Had to borrow the money from Phil on the side

And all the bright flowers and brass couldn't hide

The poor wasted face of me father.

I sold up the oul farmyard for what it was worth

And into my bag stuck a handful of earth

Then I boarded a train and I caught me a plane

And I found meself back in the U.S. again

It's been twenty two years since I've set foot in Dublin

Me kids know to use the correct knife and fork

But I'll never forget the green grass and rivers

As I keep law and order in the streets of New York

Da da da etc. fades

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