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bono - september 1913 كلمات أغنية

what need you, being come to sense
but fumble in a greasy till
and add the halfpence to the pence
and prayer to shivering prayer, until
you have dried the marrow from the bone;
for men were born to pray and save:
romantic ireland’s dead and gone
it’s with o’leary in the grave

yet they were of a different kind
the names that stilled your childish play
they have gone about thе world like wind
but little time had thеy to pray
for whom the hangman’s rope was spun
and what, god help us, could they save?
romantic ireland’s dead and gone
it’s with o’leary in the grave

was it for this the wild geese spread
the grey wing upon every tide;
for this that all that blood was shed
for this edward fitzgerald died
and robert emmet and wolfe tone
all that delirium of the brave?
romantic ireland’s dead and gone
it’s with o’leary in the grave
yet could we turn the years again
and call those exiles as they were
in all their loneliness and pain
you’d cry, ‘some woman’s yellow hair
has maddened every mother’s son’:
they weighed so lightly what they gave
but let them be, they’re dead and gone
they’re with o’leary in the grave

- bono

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