Mary's eyes are startling blue

And her hair's Newcastle gold

And she walks the thin white line between the body and the soul.

She's as faithful to her history 

As a novice to his fast;

For she's standing on the bones of Ireland's past.



Chorus:

She's singing of the troubles

And the fire in the land,

'Til I can almost feel the famine slipping through my trembling hand.

And I wonder as I hear her,

That the spirit still shines through

And she can reach across the ocean deep and break my heart in two...



Mary's wise and she is foolish;

She's as constant as the tide.

For it's a woman's heart that beats beneath that stubborn Irish pride.

We are saints and we are sinners,

We are heros we are theives. We are all of us beginners on the road to Galilee



Chorus



So let us hoist a pint of silence

To the East where Ireland lies,

And we will stare across the waters

For a glimpse of Mary's eyes.

We are ships without a harbor,

We are sailors on dry land,

And the song goes on forever

Even though the record can't.



Chorus