Mar. 25th, 2017

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I don't want to stand
On the stage with a sword
I went to a pantomime once
I was bored
I'm not a poetical sort of a person like you
When I need a poem
The streets and the gutters will do

There's Tommy Flanagan who lights the gas lamps-
A hundred ninety lamps in Phoenix park alone
He's done it drunk for over fifty-seven years
In Dublin!

And down on Henry Street is Mad John Maher-
Old rambling Johnny with a face like hammered meat!
But Johnny's singing brings a Dublin man to tears

I don't know
The words to tell you how it feels
Or how to put it in a rhyme
But if you come with me you'll know...
How the lamps in the park
Look like god in the dark
As they glow
On the streets of Dublin

The dealers hawking and the dockers yelling
The buskers banging and the ragmen ringing bells
And there's Maureen whose door is always open for
All Dublin!

And Tony Kiely with his racing pigeons
It's like religion how he lives to fly those birds-
He swears they travel for a hundred miles or more

I don't know
The kind of words that you might say
But I can put it my own way
And if you come with me you'll know
That those birds on their wing
Are a beautiful thing
As they blow
Through the streets of Dublin

And there's music like nothin' you've heard
If you know the right jukebox to play!
There are glasses to raise in the praise
Of surviving the day...

Down where
Miss Kitty Farrelly is pouring whiskey
And Frankie Donahue is lighting her cigar
A smokey den where working men don't bring the wife...

It's the laughter of fellas with stories to tell
Men who love to get drunk and raise true feckin' hell!

Ah, you come out with me and you'll see what you're missing in life

On the Streets of Dublin
On the Streets of Dublin
On the Streets of Dublin

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