a year shy of three - lisa o'neill lyrics
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bless the hands that make the food
bless the sun that lights the land
but d*mn the tide that washed my child out of the golden sand
i have no need to eat no more
i have no babe to feed
and what in heaven need i pray for
when my babe you can’t retrieve
she must have met the merrow, or the mary of the sea
or the fairy folk that live below the lake of innis free
enchanted for the waves took on to charm a one so wee
with a handful of words, seven curls, a year shy of three
oh salmon ride against the tide, with knowing many years
will you kindly take and wash her salmon
back up on innis oire
we’ll bury you on the land my love
we’ll bury you with me
a handful of words, seven curls, a year shy of three
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