Dublin 2000

I took a trip to the wildest place

Where no one could deceive me.


It was a place nearer hell

I know you won’t believe me.


The walls shone so bright

Only the skirl could make me free.


So I sold my soul with greatest ease

So I should never have to see.


And we danced once again.

To the sound of the pipes of Dublin.


To the sound of the pipes of Dublin.


We whirled and flew

To the holy few.


Forever happily tormented

By the holy pipes of Dublin.


The holy pipes of Dublin.


◄ Your seven

Absurd ►


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Wed 20th Mar 2019 16:30

Great stuff Phil. It just says so much that is implied if you look into it. With your poems I always do. Recklessness, abandon, hope, freedom, and sense of heightened experience - not bad for a nights work. Talking of pipes, I love the Uilean pipes and the Northumbrian pipes too. There is such a raw but keen sound like a strange call of a bird.
On the millennium night gig I did there were six bagpipers in the one place.


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