Smoke & Strong Whiskey (Live) Christy Moore

Kids wear white garters and smell like their mothers
Whose husbands and fathers alike
Drink black beer in the same public houses
Smelling of smoke and strong whiskey
Mammies and daddies and skipping ropes
Lectures from priests living in hope
They've not mistaken the brand of their coats
Paid for by their spiritual teachings
A busy year this, the streets running red
How many sent to a nuptial bed
And how many sent home to a winter of graves
And how many wait in for the slaughter

Chorus:
Oh the holy ground
Ceud mile failte, there's saints and there's scholars to see
Oh the holy ground
The far away hills ain't as green as they once used to be

It's Easter again and we cannot forget
Brothers and sisters and all that was said
So practise your pipes, stand proud in the wet
But the eyes of the world are upon you

God in his mercy has given us men
To lead us to peace but they can't bring an end
To the profits that pay off the lease on the land
We still send them over the water
Seventeen years and Kelly is a man
Who stands on the street with a gun in his hand
Protecting the pipers that play in the band
While the enemy waits with an army