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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
young hearts born with grief shall pay the penalty of truth a season of stolen youth shall teach old heats to break it feels like I've been here before here to where the animals lay down to die so we stood alone on a distant shore our broken spirits in rags and tatters nerve and muscle, heart and brain lost to Ireland, lost in vain pause and you can almost hear the sound echo down through the ages the creak of the burial cart here in humiliation and sorrow not mixed with indignation one is driven to exclaim oh god, that bread should be so dear and human flesh so cheap young hearts are born with such grief we have paied the penalty of truth a season of our stolen youth shall teach our hearts to break |