I. The Land
Far from Holy Ireland, stands a man with a gun
One hand holds religion, the other has none
When will it end, a country divides
There's murder in paradise, far from Holy Ireland
Oh, Ireland...so far from Holy Ireland...
Oh, Ireland...
II. A Soldier's Story
Dear God, I don't know why I'm writing this all down
I need to see it all clearly, the writing on the page
I can't reach the page, I don't want all of me to die
So listen up, little God
There's nothing wrong, you know, in being afraid
But I need to feel there's a purpose, some small part to play
And an end some day
Every time I put the helmet on and feel the metal in my hands
The serial number burns into my palms and he tries to leave a mark...
And if I have to fire (dear God...), I take the knocks
I feel the punch and there's a body on the floor
We walk the street too noisily, I wish we'd fade away or stayed away
But I'm told we're doing good now and things could be much worse (Oh, what a curse)
Please pray till it's over and wait for me alone
Don't cry on my burnt bones, don't show my medals around...
And when a bullet finds me (dear God)... well it will seek to take my breath
And in that d**h, no will or testament
Dear God
I don't know why I'm writing this all down
I need to set it out again, and sign it
At the end (x3)
And I only wish that I had somewhere left to send it to
And a place to call home and the memory of a girl
And one last friend who stayed with me
Till the end (x4)
III. The Widows' Tale
I look at your picture, and I start to cry
I look at your children, and I start to cry
Tangled Lives, make believe you really want to know
Tangled Lives
Lie to me please and make the pain go
Make it go...
We can talk to our Gods, and plead and blame them for the things we do
And then we'll turn on ourselves and leave no part in tact to make anew
Tangled Lives, make believe you really want to know
Tangled Lives
Lie to me please and make the pain go
Make it go...
How many times must I wish myself broken in two?
And why can't I sleep and make all of those dreams come all true?
Because, the dreams always bring me back to you
I think of us now, and I start to cry
So many things to talk over, but there's no hurry anymore
Broken Lives, make believe you really want to know
Broken Lives, oh lie to me, please, and make the pain go
Make it go...I miss you so
IV. Priests' Song
Old Man of Cloth you raise the dead and you urge the young to join their number
Lay low the urban chattel pulling out the plums to make some spaces
Pounding on the 'good book' like a punchbag on a string
From the stage you gaze down on the Ma**, a puppet on parade
Plead the cause, turn the screw
The Sacrament remains brand new
Until you feel the welcome hand of sleep upon your shoulder
Ask not the zealot for a favour, he rallies like a Sergeant Major
"One more time, Boys!" He eyes the sheep, oh, very humble, serves a slice
Of papal crumble from a silver plate
Calling in the debt that a father's father made
He drives the wedges home again, the father's sons will pay
Plead the cause, turn the screw
The Sacrament remains brand new
Until you feel the welcome hand of sleep upon your shoulder
Let's kiss the hand that breaks the bread, turns the wine from water
Wrapped in a ski mask, calls the flock to slaughter
A hand to mouth, a mouth to hand, a tremor rides across the land
A self fulfilling battle in a long forgotten War
A hand that's pushed away from the slowly closing door
The grit that makes the pain in a festered open sore
The God that once was righteous now is used
As a who*e (x2)
Plead the cause, turn the screw
The Sacrament remains brand new
Until you feel the welcome hand of sleep upon your shoulder
(X2)
V. The Land (Reprise)
When will it end, a country divides
There's murder in paradise
So far from Holy Ireland
Oh, Ireland...so far from Holy Ireland...
Oh, Ireland...