Mary's eyes are startling blue And her hair's Newcastle gold And she walks the thin white line between the body and the soul. She's as faithful to her history As a novice to his fast; For she's standing on the bones of Ireland's past.
Chorus: She's singing of the troubles And the fire in the land, 'Til I can almost feel the famine slipping through my trembling hand. And I wonder as I hear her, That the spirit still shines through And she can reach across the ocean deep and break my heart in two...
Mary's wise and she is foolish; She's as constant as the tide. For it's a woman's heart that beats beneath that stubborn Irish pride. We are saints and we are sinners, We are heros we are theives. We are all of us beginners on the road to Galilee
Chorus
So let us hoist a pint of silence To the East where Ireland lies, And we will stare across the waters For a glimpse of Mary's eyes. We are ships without a harbor, We are sailors on dry land, And the song goes on forever Even though the record can't.
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Copy to Clipboard: Mary's eyes are startling blue And her hair's Newcastle gold And she walks the thin white line between the body and the soul. She's as faithful to her history As a novice to his fast; For she's standing on the bones of Ireland's past.
Chorus: She's singing of the troubles And the fire in the land, 'Til I can almost feel the famine slipping through my trembling hand. And I wonder as I hear her, That the spirit still shines through And she can reach across the ocean deep and break my heart in two...
Mary's wise and she is foolish; She's as constant as the tide. For it's a woman's heart that beats beneath that stubborn Irish pride. We are saints and we are sinners, We are heros we are theives. We are all of us beginners on the road to Galilee
Chorus
So let us hoist a pint of silence To the East where Ireland lies, And we will stare across the waters For a glimpse of Mary's eyes. We are ships without a harbor, We are sailors on dry land, And the song goes on forever Even though the record can't.
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