|
Hello Belfast, once again |
|
My God, you're looking well |
|
Your ground so wet and your air so moist |
|
With that gold familiar smell |
|
It's been what, maybe half a year |
|
Since I kissed your bitter shore |
|
But you, you don't seem to remember |
|
Or to love me anymore |
|
I thought that we could work it out |
|
Now that I am getting older |
|
But it seems time has had her doubts |
|
And absence makes the heart grow colder |
|
Your streets are cold, and barren too |
|
Telling their histories of war |
|
And I've got to asking the Lord above |
|
What the hell I came back here for |
|
So I make my way down to the Queens Arcade |
|
Hoping to find some solace there |
|
I guess I'll drown my newfound loneliness |
|
In the company of fear |
|
I thought that we could work it out |
|
Now that I am getting older |
|
But it seems time has had her doubts |
|
And absence makes the heart grow colder |
|
I'll give up my claim to confidence |
|
And the luxuries of pride |
|
For just a moment with your innocence |
|
And a glimpse at your inside |
|
Ireland, you're an orphan girl |
|
You oughta thank God for the rain |
|
'Cause she's the only one that ever kisses you |
|
Or pacifies your pain |
|
I thought that we could work it out |
|
Now that I am getting older |
|
But it seems time has had her doubts |
|
And absence makes the heart grow colder |