A bloody history against oppression.
Irish luck from days of old,
Locked inside is a pot of gold.
We came on boats of blood and wood,
in search of something, something real.
Braving depths of the Pacific,
not knowing what to feel but
a better life was the deal.
Never looking back only forward
into the unknown, the unexpected.
You gotta live like you're gonna die,
we started dying the day we started crying.
No comments:
Post a Comment