Luyện nghe bài hát Slainte Mhath

A hand held a candle in angst-fuelled bravado
A carbon trail scores a stretched palm
Trapped in the indecision of another menu
And you sit there and ask me to tell you the so far
This is the so far

Shuffling memories dealing your doodles in margins
You out your poems across a beer-mat or two
And when you declare the of grave creation
They round and ask you to tell them the story so far

is the story so far

And you listen with a in your eye
To their hopes and betrayals and your only
Is slinte

Princes in exile the standard drambuie
Parading their anecdotes tired old campaigns
Holding their own last commanding attention
We sit here and listen to all of the so far

This is the so far

Take it away, take it away, take it away, take me

From the on the barbed wire at flanders and bilston glen
From a clydesdale rusts from the tears of it's broken men
From the realisation that all we've been left
Is to stand like our fathers before us in the line
on the whistle to blow, we stand here waiting
On the to blow
They promised us miracles, and the whistle blows
Broken promises, and the whistle still
The whistle still