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if you could fill a vale with shells from Killiney's shore and sweet-talk in a tongue that is no more if wishful thoughts could bridge the gulf of araby between what is to what can never be if you could hold the frozen flow of New Hope creek and hide out from the one they said you might meet if you could unlearn all the words that you never wanted heard if you could stall the southern wind that's whistling in your ears you could take what is from what can never be one man of 70 whispers, "free at last" two neighbours who are proud of their massacres three tyrants torn away in a winter's month four prisoners framed by a dirty judge five burned with tires six men still inside |
and seven more days to shake at the great divide the gulf of araby well, we would plow and part the earth to bring you home we would harvest every miracle ever known and if they laid out all the things that these ten years want to bring we would gladly give them up to bring you back to us there is nothing we would not give to kiss you and believe we could take what is to what can never be one man of 70 whispers, "not free yet" two neighbours who make up knee deep in their debt three tyrants grab the reigns in the summer's heat four prisoners lost in the fallacy five on my life six I'm dead inside and seven more days to shake at the great divide the gulf of araby |