You belong to the gang
And you say you can’t break
The Shankill Butchers ride tonight
You better shut your windows tight
They're
When we arrive
Sons & daughters
We'll make our homes
Rambling, where to begin
I taste the summer on your peppery
(1)
It was a cold night
And the snow lay low
I pulled
And under the boughs unbowed
All clothed in a snowy
(Come and See)
There's an island hidden in the sound
Lapping currents
Sing muse, of the passion of the pistol
Sing muse, of
With all the grain of babylon
To cultivate to make us
Heart-carved tree trunk, Yankee bayonet
A sweetheart left behind
Far