Ireland from Allergies by ish

Come into my arms, unwind your shoulder blades.
I know you're cold. I've seen those winter days.

Where is your kin?
Way far away in the land of Ireland.

Underneath your nails, there's blooded dirt and skin.
Against the east, your child eyes can't tell.

All the gentleman from rogues and motherless fiends.
So listen to me.

You offer ugly winds no offering.
Yet you speak of a time so different now.
I dream of it somehow.

Little one, will you carry my breath
Rabid dog, will you swallow pestilence
August rock, do not fear your past
Lady bug, stay on your blade of grass.

We're not long for this world.
There's no fire here to burn.
We're not long for this world.
Let easterly return.

We're not long for this world.
From the mire to the fern.
We're not long for this world.
Let easterly return.

Rabid boy, do you feel the madness?
In your dreams, you can taste her skin.
Naked girl, and all your dry sockets.
Cannot taste a thing.

We're not long for this world.
There's no fire here to burn.
We're not long for this world.
Let easterly return.

We're not long for this world.
From the mire to fern
We're not long for this world.
Let easterly return.

• Folk
• baroque
• city folk
• original
• pop
• ukulele
• Gulfport