Christy Moore
Aisling

See the bright new moon is rising,
Above the land of black and green
Hear the rebels voices calling,
I will not die 'till you bury me

The aunt upstairs in the bed she is calling,
Why has he forsaken me
Faded pictures in the hallway,
Which one of them brown ghosts is he

Bless the wind that shakes the barley,
Curse the spade and curse the plough
I've counted years and weeks and days,
And I wish to God I was with you now

Fare thee well me black-haired diamond,
Fare thee well me own Aisling
At night fond dreams of you still haunt me,
Far across the grey north sea

And the wind it blows from the North and South,
To the East And to the West
I will be like the wind my love,
For I will know no rest 'till I return to thee

1, 2, 3 telegraph poles,
Standing on the cold black road
The night is fading into morning,
Give us a drop of your sweet poitín

The rain was lashing - the sun was rising,
The wind was howling through the trees
The madness from the mountains crawling,
When I saw you first my own Aisling

Bless the wind that shakes the barley,
Curse the spade and curse the plough
I've counted years and weeks and days,
And I wish to God I was with you now

Fare thee well my black haired diamond,
Fare thee well my own Aisling
At night fond dreams of you still haunt me,
Far across the grey north sea


Mirror lyrics:

Far across the grey north sea
At night fond dreams of you still haunt me,
Fare thee well my own Aisling
Fare thee well my black haired diamond,

And I wish to God I was with you now
I've counted years and weeks and days,
Curse the spade and curse the plough
Bless the wind that shakes the barley,

When I saw you first my own Aisling
The madness from the mountains crawling,
The wind was howling through the trees
The rain was lashing - the sun was rising,

Give us a drop of your sweet poitín
The night is fading into morning,
Standing on the cold black road
1, 2, 3 telegraph poles,

For I will know no rest 'till I return to thee
I will be like the wind my love,
To the East And to the West
And the wind it blows from the North and South,

Far across the grey north sea
At night fond dreams of you still haunt me,
Fare thee well me own Aisling
Fare thee well me black-haired diamond,

And I wish to God I was with you now
I've counted years and weeks and days,
Curse the spade and curse the plough
Bless the wind that shakes the barley,

Which one of them brown ghosts is he
Faded pictures in the hallway,
Why has he forsaken me
The aunt upstairs in the bed she is calling,

I will not die 'till you bury me
Hear the rebels voices calling,
Above the land of black and green
See the bright new moon is rising,


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