And flew across the water
There's a house in old Clifden
Where I've spent many nights
And the men there are wise men
Full of untended upended stories
That straddle a decade of ruin
And the locksmith is sorry
That she can't unlock the door to his kindness
And so the world's turning
And so I become powerful and intrepid
I can understand the pulse of your blood
And since we are intimate
I know the honest appetite's aplomb
The cadence of your whisper
And every time you kiss me
The locksmith frowns in despair
I grew up on the burly coast
And I fought throughout the years
Of this great cast-iron, self-preserving grit
And left the locksmith none the wiser
Causing everyone to laugh and laugh
Fast as the morning train I tidied up the broken keys