Happily Misplaced In This World

It’s grey bricks, stones and this cold wind
Carrying the smell of the hops
And the peat bog slowly burning
Brings me straight back to my youth

It’s springing in Dublin this March
And the crowd for Paddy’s day is gone
As I lay down and wait for the first sun
It’s just me and Charles Parnell

Each one of these old granite tiles
Hides a story only I could tell
For through bullet holes and memories
Me heart and soul here dwell

Gallant heroes on their stands
Greet a man wrapped in his black coat
Walking past the spike up to the bridge
With a lump in his throat

May this gentle veil of rain
Wash away all me thoughts
As I walk on the banks of the Liffey
I strangely feel at home

At the crack of dawn in Dublin town
I never feel alone
With the ghosts that tell me stories
And a dozen songs to sing
At the crack of dawn in Dublin Town
I never feel alone
For I’m happily misplaced in this world

Dear friend carved on a canal bench
Is meself or fate that I have to blame?
For I loved your poem so dearly
That I found me trapped in it