The territorial drums a waltz on a loaded gun
The viper flexes, coiling on the vine
& the irises are sinking in the rain
Idiots drown the sound of a distant train
The blind man plays his instrument & sings
In the Irish Sea ichthyosaurus swims
The Reverend Ian Paisley grabs his god & shouts
The Pope sits in the Vatican & doubts
The generous American is loosening his belt
Savoring his childhood in an after-dinner mint
& the rosebuds are sinking in the rain
Radios drown the sound of a distant train
The blind man's bow leaves resin on the strings
In the Irish Sea the rattlesnake swims
On the feast day of St Patrick, like the poet Valery
A soldier pours a glass of blood red wine into the sea
The sun can never shine through the censorship of clouds
In this city of open secrets & sudden shrouds
While the astors are sinking in the rain
Automatics drown the sound of a distant train
The blind old man's accordion is torn
In the Irish sea the adders swarm
& in a Ballymena farmhouse a widow goes to bits
& sometimes she remembers him & sometimes she just sits
& as for the troubles, don't count us out
Sometimes we're unbiased observers, sometimes louts
While the tiger lilies crumple in the rain
Television drowns the sound of a distant train
The blind man pours the spit from an old trombone
In the Irish Sea tapeworms twist & turn
The moon is a sergeant major who rises & recruits
In the terraces of Belfast, in the back streets of Beirut
Sitting on a bed while I watch you from behind
Skinny as a child, guilt-free, your face unlined
While the violets are sinking in the rain
Videos drown the sound of a distant train
The blind old man has smashed his violin
In the Irish Sea the vipers return
Could've been your conscience
But I guess that never works
So treat me like an equal
Till it hurts
I violetti piangono per te
I canali la Torre de Babel
I violini piangono per che
Io sto morendo in questo hotel