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± BPM (tempo): ♩ = 108-110 beats per minute
You took a train
To the south side of Boston,
You showed me where your
Old man stayed,
Took twenty-eight years
Of blood I was lost in
To feel loved on my own birthday.
And I always felt
Like I’s in between something,
Like home and somewhere far away,
But tonight, on the west side
In a bar out in Brooklyn
I saw tears outline
Your face.
Chorus:
How lucky are we?
It’s been a hell of a week,
But you’re all grown now.
There’s smoke seeping out
Of your bloody teeth,
But you’re home somehow.
And I’ll be upstairs
With the guitar I’s given,
When I was barely fourteen,
When did McGlinchey’s get so crowded
And why are the crowds
So damn green?
I lost my mind
On the streets of the city,
And maybe I lost all hope too.
Took twenty-eight years
Of blood pumping through me,
To get to this evening
With you.
Chorus:
How lucky are we?
It’s been a hell of a week,
But you’re all grown now.
There’s smoke seeping out
Of the bar down the street,
But we’re home somehow.
How lucky are we?
It’s been a hell of a week,
But you’re all grown now.
There’s smoke seeping out
Of the bar down the street,
But we’re home somehow.
You took a train
To the south side of Boston,
You showed me where your
Whole heart stayed,
Took twenty-eight years
Of blood pumping through me
To feel loved on my own birthday.

Published 21.12.24