Well, I danced in the arms of a black carry girl
In the scully square after the war
And I drank to get drunk and I sank and I stump
Like a drunk on a subway floor.

And I never did marry Cathy O’Shade
She met another and they went their way.
To the wind, you’re a joy, just a drunk irish boy
Just a face in the crowd, I’ll be back around
To show you all something someday.

There are some things that must remain secret
You can find no good reason to tell
There’s too many men telling their secrets these days
And I like to tell them to all go to hell.

So I never had dreams that they never came true
As far as you know, anyway.
To the wind, you’re a toy, just a drunk irish boy,
Just a face in the crowd, I’ll be back around
To show you all something some day.

Gonna be big, gonna be big to the highest of trees
We used to climb my brother and me.
High on the limbs, two laughing hyenas,
Over was Struckberry’s cemetery.

To the wind you’re a toy, just a slim irish boy,
Coming back home from a war.
Just a face in the crowd, just a drunken out loud,
Just don’t try looking down, cause I’ll be back around
To show you all something someday
To show you all something someday.

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