the van was shaking and the driver was sick
the apples in the back were a present from the parish
i was holding on to every word that he said
the stories that he told made me wish i was dead

there hasn't been a tune since the Beatles went weird
the country we were in, it was heading for the horrors
find yourself a fiddle and a girl that can play
the sound of John McCormack, is the sound of today, the sound of today

in the falling rain i stood, the Irish cowboys chopping wood
and daring donkeys dancing in the fields

looking for a horsey in a one horse town
met up with the boys so i offered tea and flowers
drinking gin and tonic in the bicycle shop
dying as a drinker is the only way to stop

in the falling rain i stood, the Irish cowboys chopping wood
and daring donkeys dancing in the fields

wear your pride without a hood
like Irish cowboys chopping wood
and daring donkeys dancing in the fields

i became a preacher just an hour ago
gathered up my thoughts and i threw them in the bucket
if i catch you smiling, then you know it's your last
if i catch you smiling, say goodbye to the past, 'cause you know it's your last

in the falling rain I stood, the Irish cowboys chopping wood
and daring donkeys dancing in the fields

wear your pride without a hood
like Irish cowboys chopping wood
and daring donkeys dancing in the fields


Lyrics submitted by vulgar

Period Music song meanings
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