Another Song Is Born - Christy Moore

I looked over my shoulder but not for too long

It’s no place to look if you’re writing a song

Some songs grow ancient and live through the years

While others die off and dry up like tears

You open the cloak and lift up a veil

The hammer is raised to drive home a nail

The flesh is torn open, the bone is revealed

Wounds that fester seldom get healed

Songs written for love and written for gain

Some make you laugh, soothe a bad pain

Songs have a heart, a body, a soul

You lay one to rest and another song is born

While we rescue banks and Royal Kilmanham Halls

Hell on this earth means nothing at all

My hands are all withered and I cannot breathe

The nightmare of indifference to suffering and need

The elite on the plinth maintain status quo

Marble and granite their movements are slow

The silk stays unruffled as the eyebrows are raised

Satin and mohair the good lord be praised