Birds of Belfast

The field grew wild all that buzzing summer
 We dozed a while, woke a little younger
 Hung your clothes, waited on the weather
 Thorn and rose twine and grow together
 When did all the birds of Belfast learn to sing your name?
 When did all those silver ashes breathe into flame?
 Who are you without your sadness? Who am I without my shame?
 When did all the birds of Belfast learn to sing your name?
 Which was right, the fight or the surrender?
 You my light, my solitary mender
 Still the sun will rise on every weeper's mourning
 Tear stained eyes, pearly light adorning
 When did all the birds of Belfast learn to sing your name?
 When did all those silver ashes breathe into flame?
 Who are you without your sadness? Who am I without my shame?
 When did all the birds of Belfast learn?
 Who am I to sing a love song? Who are you to do the same?
 With our weary little hearts full of broken little claims?
 Will they even recognize us? Should I give you a new name?
 And then all the birds of Belfast would sing it just the same