In my dream I walk in the times gone by <br />On the western edge of a heartbreak shore <br />Where sleep’s dark fears are howling ‘round <br />In the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world <br /> <br />Near the edge of a cliff there’s an angry <br />crowd with hungry faces crowding around <br />’fear in their eyes when they hear the drum <br />In the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world <br /> <br />The troops come on with bayonets fixed <br />Pushing the people to the mountain’s lip <br />A cry goes out as the first goes down <br />in the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world <br /> <br />The troops move off in single file. <br />The Empire grows by an Irish mile. <br />A voice cries out from the rocks below in <br />the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world <br /> <br />In my dream I walk in the times gone by <br />As close to the edge as my fears allow <br />in the air there's a prayer for pity and revenge <br />In the bitter bitter dark of a cold wet world<br /><br />Sean Joyce<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-irish-mile/
