• Wandering Rocks3:46

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Wandering Rocks

© 2017 Robert Morris Black / Leprechaun Club Music (ASCAP) All Rights Reserved.


I look at my smooth pocket watch as I walk down the Presbytery steps
Toss the sailor a bright silver crown: I’m a practical Catholic, useful at mission time
I gave my leg for old “Home and Beauty”: lost to a rude cannonball
I’ve got copper and silver for a pint and a bridge to sleep under tonight
We have thick yellow pea soup to eat fresh from the kettle to the bowl
And a few crumbs of bread left from Tuesday, and a job or two to keep us off the dole

We stroll the boreens past the pubs and the docks
And we dodge all the wandering rocks

With the bang of the lastlap bell, the halfway wheelmen spurred to their sprint
I have tuppence and a shilling from me Da, I could have got a half a crown if he weren’t skint
O God bless America, it’s the sweepings of every country, plus our own
It’s a land of scandal and revelation, and its penchant for graft is well-known
I like fat pears and blushing peaches; if you’d open up your blouse a little more
You can take the jingling coins in your pocket and I’ll gladly point the way to the door

We stroll the boreens past the pubs and the docks
And we dodge all the wandering rocks

Her mouth glued in voluptuous kiss
His hands on her opulent skin
Nostrils flared over heaving prey
So goes The Sweets of Sin

Born in the dark, wormy earth, I’m left in a miserable lurch
Between the imperial British State and the Holy Roman Apostolic Church
The priest drove the poet’s wits astray with hair-raising visions of hell
Exhorted by a basso profundo and accompanied by a gay bagatelle
The Royal Cavalcade reaches the park led by hornblowers and military men
And the throwaway skiff floats down the Liffey never to be heard from again

We stroll the boreens past the pubs and the docks
And we dodge all the wandering rocks