Your skin is cold, but the sun shines within your hold
Your hair is gold, but you see through a goldfish bowl
I feel old, sick and tired
We walk the streets, gently staring, wondering what to do
The sun in sheets, pouring down those streets to eyes green and blue
And a ship with eight sails could come round the bend
Or a herd of bulls chargin stop lights red
I'd be blind
You broke my heart Danny Boy
Not your fault Danny Boy
I was hanged at the doorstep, played like a two to a fourset
Had like poor Job in the bible by God
Day comes I wake, I wake with a hard heartache
I go down to your place

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