Songtext von The Back Of Beyond

Over Annach Mór bog rises Nephin Mór mountain Between them, Lough Conn and the winding River Moy Beyond them lie Achill and the broad Atlantic Ocean To my back, Sliabh Gamph where I rambled as a boy There in the middle of a midsummer's evening I see all the geese and the crows flocking home When a ball of red fire sinks down behind Nephin Putting itself out on the wild Atlantic foam Carts crackle and crank behind cross-eyed asses Carrying their poor masters to tea and to rest When a clamor of a working day now is at an ending And the sinking sun disappears down in the west I sat cross-legged playing an old accordian In the middle of a field that was facing the bog Playing slow airs that no one's ever heard of And the cold River Moy covers Nepin in fog The back of beyond is a place where I love to be Far from New York City, the concrete and pain Where the air, it is so clean, and people are astounding It's there that my thoughts and dreams will remain Over Annach Mór bog rises Nephin Mór mountain Between them, Lough Conn and the winding River Moy Beyond them lie Achill and the broad Atlantic Ocean To my back, Sliabh Gamph where I rambled as a boy