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Answer
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I
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love
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you,
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I
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told
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you
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I
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do
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It's
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all
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I've
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ever
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felt,
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I've
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never
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felt
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so
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well
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And
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if
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you
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don't
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know
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it,
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I
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wrote
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you
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this
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tune
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To
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be
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here
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loving
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you
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when
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I'm
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in
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the
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tomb
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I've
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eddied
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the
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heart
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now,
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from
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Dublin
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to
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Paris
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And
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if
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Answer
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there
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was
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sunshine,
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it
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was
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never
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on
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me
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So
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close,
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the
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rain,
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so
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pronounced
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is
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the
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pain,
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yeah
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Well,
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I
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love
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you,
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imagine
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a
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world
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without
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you
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It's
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only
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ever
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you,
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I
|
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only
|
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think
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of
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you
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And
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if
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it's
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a
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blessing,
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I
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want
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it
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for
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you
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If
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I
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must
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have
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Answer
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a
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future,
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I
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want
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it
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with
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you
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System
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in
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our
|
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hearts,
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you
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only
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had
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it
|
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before
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You
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only
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open
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the
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window,
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never
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open
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up
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the
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door
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And
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I
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love
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you,
|
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told
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you
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I
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do
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Selling
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genocide
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and
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half-cut
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pride,
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I
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understand
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I
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had
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to
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be
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there
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from
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the
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start,
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I
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|
Answer
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had
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to
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be
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the
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fucking
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man
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It
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was
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a
|
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clamber
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of
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the
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life,
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I
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sucked
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the
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ring
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off
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every
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hand
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Had
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'em
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plying
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me
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with
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drink,
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even
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met
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with
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their
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demands
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When
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the
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cherries
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lined
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up
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I
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kept
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the
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spoilings
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for
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myself
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'Til
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I
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had
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thirty
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ways
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of
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dying
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looking
|
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Answer
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at
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me
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from
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the
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shelf
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Cloud-parting
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smile
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I
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had,
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a
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real
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good
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child
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I
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was
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But
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this
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island's
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run
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by
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sharks
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with
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children's
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bones
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stuck
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in
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their
|
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jaws
|
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Now
|
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the
|
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morning's
|
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filled
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with
|
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cokey's
|
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tryna
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talk
|
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you
|
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through
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it
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all
|
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Is
|
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their
|
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mammy
|
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Fine
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Gael
|
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and
|
|
is
|
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their
|
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daddy
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Fianna
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Answer
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Fáil?
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And
|
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they
|
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say
|
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they
|
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love
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the
|
|
land
|
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but
|
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they
|
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don't
|
|
feel
|
|
it
|
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go
|
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to
|
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waste
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|
Hold
|
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a
|
|
mirror
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to
|
|
the
|
|
youth
|
|
and
|
|
they
|
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will
|
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only
|
|
see
|
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their
|
|
face
|
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Makes
|
|
flowers
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read
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like
|
|
broadsheets,
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every
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|
young
|
|
man
|
|
wants
|
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to
|
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die
|
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Say
|
|
it
|
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to
|
|
the
|
|
man
|
|
who
|
|
profits
|
|
and
|
|
the
|
|
bastard
|
|
|
Answer
|
|
walks
|
|
by
|
|
Say
|
|
it
|
|
to
|
|
him
|
|
fifty
|
|
times
|
|
and
|
|
still
|
|
the
|
|
bastard
|
|
won't
|
|
cry
|
|
Would
|
|
I
|
|
lie?
|
|
I
|
|
love
|
|
you,
|
|
I
|
|
told
|
|
you
|
|
I
|
|
do
|
|
It's
|
|
all
|
|
I've
|
|
ever
|
|
felt,
|
|
I've
|
|
never
|
|
felt
|
|
so
|
|
well
|
|
And
|
|
if
|
|
you
|
|
don't
|
|
know
|
|
it,
|
|
I
|
|
wrote
|
|
you
|
|
this
|
|
tune
|
|
To
|
|
be
|
|
here
|
|
loving
|
|
|
Answer
|
|
you
|
|
when
|
|
I'm
|
|
in
|
|
the
|
|
tomb
|
|
System
|
|
in
|
|
our
|
|
hearts,
|
|
you
|
|
only
|
|
had
|
|
it
|
|
before
|
|
Echo,
|
|
the
|
|
lights,
|
|
they
|
|
go
|
|
echo,
|
|
Selling
|
|
genocide
|
|
and
|
|
half-cut
|
|
pride
|
|
I
|
|
understand,
|
|
I
|
|
had
|
|
to
|
|
be
|
|
there
|
|
from
|
|
the
|
|
start,
|
|
I
|
|
had
|
|
to
|
|
be
|
|
the
|
|
fucking
|
|
man
|
|
It
|
|
was
|
|
a
|
|
clamber
|
|
of
|
|
the
|
|
life,
|
|
|
Answer
|
|
I
|
|
sucked
|
|
the
|
|
ring
|
|
of
|
|
every
|
|
hand
|
|
Had
|
|
'em
|
|
plying
|
|
me
|
|
with
|
|
drink,
|
|
even
|
|
met
|
|
with
|
|
their
|
|
demands
|
|
And
|
|
I
|
|
loved
|
|
you
|
|
like
|
|
a
|
|
penny
|
|
loves
|
|
the
|
|
pocket
|
|
of
|
|
a
|
|
priest
|
|
And
|
|
I'll
|
|
love
|
|
you
|
|
'til
|
|
the
|
|
grass
|
|
around
|
|
my
|
|
gravestone
|
|
is
|
|
deceased
|
|
And
|
|
I'm
|
|
heading
|
|
for
|
|
the
|
|
cokeys,
|
|
I
|
|
|
Answer
|
|
will
|
|
tell
|
|
them
|
|
'bout
|
|
it
|
|
all
|
|
About
|
|
the
|
|
gall
|
|
of
|
|
Fine
|
|
Gael
|
|
and
|
|
the
|
|
fail
|
|
of
|
|
Fianna
|
|
Fáil
|
|
And
|
|
now
|
|
the
|
|
flowers
|
|
read
|
|
like
|
|
broadsheets
|
|
every
|
|
young
|
|
man
|
|
wants
|
|
to
|
|
die
|
|
Say
|
|
it
|
|
to
|
|
the
|
|
man
|
|
who
|
|
profits
|
|
and
|
|
the
|
|
bastard
|
|
walks
|
|
by
|
|
Say
|
|
to
|
|
him
|
|
fifty
|
|
times
|
|
and
|
|
still
|
|