Shane MacGowan & The Popes Aisling
See the moon is once more rising Above our our land of black and green Hear the rebels voice is calling "I shall not die, though you bury me!" Hear the Aunt in bed a-dying "Where is my Johnny?" Faded pictures in the hallway Which one of these brown ghosts is he? Fare thee well my black haired diamond Fare the well my own Aisling Thoughts of and dreams of you will haunt me 'Till I come back home again And the wind it blows To the North and South And blows to the East and West I'll be just like that wind my love For I will have no rest 'Til I return to thee Bless the wind that shakes the barley Curse the spade and curse the plough Waking in the morning early I wish to Hell I was with you now One, two, three, four telephone poles Give me a drink of poitin Madness from the mountains crawling When I first met you my own Aisling Fare thee well my black haired diamond Fare the well my own Aisling Thoughts of and dreams of you will haunt me 'Till I come back home again Fare thee well my black haired diamond Fare the well my own Aisling Thoughts of and dreams of you will haunt me 'Till I come back home again
