Soft Rain - Damien Dempsey

I’m half feral out here on the edge of the city

The dark of the country flirts and entices me

But I’m drawn to the flame of Anna Livia’s domain

Like a moth to the light to the city at night

I see the bus coming and I take off running

'Cause I can’t stand to wait half an hour in this head space

I’m heading for them concrete cliffs

Under neon moons keep about you your wits

I scribbling away on the journey into town

The bay and the hills are smoothing out my frown

Any a realise that the pen, it is mightier than the sword

And a punch never hurt near as much as a bad word

The pretty big houses, off to the right

They look so all alone

I wonder if their occupants are happy

Status doesn’t love you, and money won’t phone

The bus pulls up on old Malborough Street

See the big gang with the rotten teeth

Through this concrete maze they will spend their days hunting

Powders and potions to forget regret

The Liffey cuts the city, a meandering blue vein

Ancient poetry echoes and soft rain down the lanes

I see you in the city, your face is everywhere

All of our adventures re-enacted so clear

When you coming home, my friend

To all your pals and streets again

When you coming, when you coming home, my friend

When you coming home, my friend

To all us family again

When you coming, when you coming home

To feel the soft rain sweet one day

Gentle rain is falling as I walk a golden mile

A Georgian maze of genius, intellect gone wild

A duck into a pub, into a snug, to grapple Joyce

The brown eyed barmaid is humming and she’s some voice

A few hours later, the whole place is singing

They’re following the women, her eyes shook with emotion

Every sweet note is like the last she’d ever sing

She finishes and her audience, we make the rafters ring

Different tribes they are a feast for my eyes

Deep exotic languages, guttural and ancient

The knowledge and the strength of these brand new Irish

Will temper our country, invigorate our community

Humans flow and trickle through the cuts and caves of concrete

Undercover artists paint and decorate the backstreet

Let’s walk this maze together when you get back home

I’ll cherish every minute, you’ll only be on loan

I raise a can to Brendan, on the banks of the Royal Canal

The evening sun on the water, is my beautiful pal

The sun has slipped down on this town for a thousand years

And when it rises up, out of the Irish Sea in the morning

Liverpool is yawning, a golden lane vein snakes up the Liffey to greet me

A street cleaner cheerfully winks at me

Inside me, there’s a symphony

As the sun stretches out across the black bog of Allen

Traverses the broad majestic Shannon

Creeps up the beautiful Burren, barren

Across to the mystical islands of Aran

And sprinkles gold dust over the ever young Atlantic Ocean

I’m going in, you coming?

When you coming home, my friend

To all your pals and streets again

When you coming, when you coming home, my friend

When you coming home, my friend

To all us family again

When you coming, when you coming home

To feel the soft rain sweet one day