3.Aisling
Lyricist：Shane Patrick Mac Gowan
Aisling
See the moon is once more rising
Above our our land of black and green
Hear the rebels voice is calling
'Shall not die, though you bury me'
Hear the Aunt in bed, a dying
'Where the fuck, is my Johnny？'
Faded pictures in the hallway
One of which these brown ghosts, is he？
Fare thee well my black haired darling
Fare the well my own Aisling
Thoughts and dreams of you will haunt me
'Til I come back home again
Fare thee well my black haired darling
Fare the well my own Aisling
Thoughts and dreams of you will haunt me
'Til I come back home again
And the wind, it blows to the north, south
And blows to the east and west
I'll be like the wind, my love
For I shall have no rest, 'til I return to thee
And the wind, it blows to the north, south
And blows to the east and west
I'll be like the wind, my love
For I shall have no rest, 'til I return to thee
Bless the wind that shakes the barley
Curse the spade, curse the plough
Waking in the morning early
Wish to hell, I was with you now
One, two, three, four telegraph poles
Madness from the mountains crawling
When I first met you my own Aisling
Fare thee well my black haired darling
Fare the well my own Aisling
Thoughts and dreams of you will haunt me
'Til I come back home again
Fare thee well my black haired darling
Fare the well my own Aisling
Thoughts and dreams of you will haunt me
'Til I come back home again
Fare thee well my black haired darling
Fare the well my own Aisling
Thoughts and dreams of you will haunt me
'Til I come back home again
Fare thee well my black haired darling
Fare the well my own Aisling
Thoughts and dreams of you will haunt me
'Til I come back home again
| 
