Homage to Shane Macgowan

 

I saw a pot of gold

Sitting slumped by the road

He was beautiful and broken.

And shone with alabaster

Broken teeth and shame.

His words were gold.

 

He was rotting

In his prison

But still glowed 

With all thats great

Of the greatest of hungers.

 

He was Behan

He was Mangan

He was unshaven.

He flowed with a love

That only he could see

With fiddles and poteen.

 

His love was Victoria

But he saw snakes and smoke.

His voice rasped

unbroken

And his throat growled

As he sang of the road.

 

One day you’ll leave us

Your beauty still there.

Over a Martini and ice.

You’ve driven our world

With gravel in your voice

 

Were still here Macgowan

So come give us one more

To remember you by.

We’ll plant a tree of rowan

And raise a glass or three.

 

Your words of beauty

Words of shame.

As you shout out your songs

As they live down the years.

you won’t want our love.

And you don’t  want our tears

From our dirty old towns.

 

So one day he’ll be gone

But like Behan and Mangan

He’ll always live on

Down that old main drag

Growling out stories

Of a broken old fag.