Black 47 - Black 47



Everything is still

Not a chicken not a body

Just an awful sickenin' silence roarin' in my brain

And the fog of death deepens and lies upon the land

An ould wan rolls over on her back

The grass stains still green upon her chin

I can sill hear her keenin' and screamin' in the wind



There's no love left on earth

And God is dead in heaven

In these dark and deadly days of Black 47



God's curse upon you Lord Trevelyan

May your great Queen Victoria rot in hell

'Til England and its Empire

Answer under heaven

For the crimes they committed in Black 47



Paudie said "c'mon now

Don't look back, she's not livin', she's a phantom

And she'll curse us if we look into her eyes"

Oh God, I think I'm dyin' - the fever's in my brain

For can't you see that pack of children up ahead

The beards of old men sproutin' from their chins

Can't you hear their screams of hunger in the wind



Darlin' Paudie save me

I think I'm sinkin' fast, me blood is boilin'

Don't let me die here in a ditch

If the hunger doesn't get me - the fever surely will

Paudie took me up and threw me 'cross his shoulder

He nursed me everyday 'til we reached Amerikay

Screamin' and shoutin' like two madmen in the wind



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[*] typed in by: [*]

[*] Gary Adkins [*]

[*] gary@gnu.ai.mit.edu [*]

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