Mún dreoilín san fharraige

St.Colemans

Well I got a job and tried to put my money away,
But I got debts that no honest man can pay.
So I drew what I had from the Central Trust,
And I bought us two tickets on that Coast City bus.

Everything dies, baby that’s a fact
But maybe everything that dies, someday comes back.
Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty,
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City.

Now our luck may have died, and our love may be cold,
But with you forever I’ll stay.
We’re goin’ out where the sands turnin’ to gold,
So put on your stockin’s cause the nights gettin’ cold.

And everything dies, baby that’s a fact,
But maybe everything that dies, someday comes back.

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