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Eyes of Ireland

Latimer/Hoover

Listen now boys,

my grandmother said -

I'll tell you a story and

then off to bed.

There once was a time,

we lived off the land.

Harvest would come,

and we all lent a handBut winds blew our lives,

and scattered our seeds.

Changing the landscape,

from flowers to weeds.

See in the graveyard

the families gone.

The grandest of tombstones

carry them on...When you sail from the Harbour,

It's your last eyes of Ireland.We tended the fire,

and faeries appeased

the flame never died

until we had to leave.

And when we were gone,

the house tumbled down

and covered our footprints,

we'd left on the ground.When you sail from the Harbour,

It's your last eyes of Ireland.My eyes are now tired

and no longer see.

But visions of Ireland

linger in me.So carry your past

in the rooms of your heart

and you'll never he empty

of love when you partWhen you sail from the Harbour,

It's your last eyes of Ireland.

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