Hardly anyone had the tele' It was a different kind of world Heaven was a game of football Before I ever kissed the girls We used to go out driving We'd travel near and far Nearly every Sunday in me Father's oul' ford car He'd be pointing out the landmarks Everywhere we'd go, through the Twistings , turning , winding roads Of Galway and Mayo Me mother in the front seat Children in the back We'd be imagining Indians in the Fields waiting to attack And we'd be asking
Vyšlo na albech
