He walks over fresh made graves
Across the grass and flower beds
Wearing a trench coat , leather black
Shuffles across the railroad track
As he approaches you
He tips his hat and how are you
In gravely words of choice
With his whiskey voice

I saw him down at the pub
Drinking Guinness eating subs
With two eyes on everyone
Never turning his back on anyone
Orders up a whiskey straight
Raises a toast ,"To all my mates!"
Left the Erie Half Crown by the plate
With a whiskey voice

The bomb went off with  such a boom
Smoke and fire over loomed
The police and firemen running everywhere
He stood in the shadows over there
Long before the screams and shouts
Had died down before the doubts
The man had long disappeared
With his whiskey voice

tonight i slept with
my windows wide open.
now, i am part of this world.
i feel it, it doesn't feel me.

400 000 people in this city
have their own warm
incandescent light.
my friend was crying
on the floor of her house;
all dark.
one lady was listening loud
to the song that defined
her life.
but all i heard that night
were the sounds of peace,
coming from the shaky leaves,
the sleepy urban dogs
and the fast red motorcycles.