Shane MacGowan and The Popes
My Way

Aisling

See the moon is once more rising

Above our our land of black and green

Hear the rebels voice is calling

"I shall not die, though you bury me!"

Hear the Aunt in bed a-dying

"Where is my Johnny?"

Faded pictures in the hallway

Which one of these brown ghosts is he?



Fare thee well my black haired diamond

Fare the well my own Aisling

Thoughts of and dreams of you will haunt me

'Till I come back home again



And the wind it blows

To the North and South

And blows to the East and West

I'll be just like that wind my love

For I will have no rest

'Til I return to thee



Bless the wind that shakes the barley

Curse the spade and curse the plough

Waking in the morning early

I wish to Hell I was with you now

One, two, three, four telephone poles

Give me a drink of poitin

Madness from the mountains crawling

When I first met you my own Aisling



Fare thee well my black haired diamond

Fare the well my own Aisling

Thoughts of and dreams of you will haunt me

'Till I come back home again



Fare thee well my black haired diamond

Fare the well my own Aisling

Thoughts of and dreams of you will haunt me

'Till I come back home again

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