When we were kids, we used to go over the back wall into old damn Scrab Yard
Into the snooker hall, where most us kids were bought
Into the rocks in the Stella, where film stars start
That's where me and Hop along with Roy Rogers got drunk and joyed
And we might have been the savior of the men
That kept you keptin' in the devil's demon den
And we might have been the magic politicians
In some kind of tricky positions
But like an old, old, old master musician
He kept on wishin' he was headed for the number one hit country again
And it's true, true blue, Irish blue
And it's true, true blue, and sometimes it reminds me of you
There's an old photograph of Dan that I wish you could have seen
Of him and the boys poised, standin' in St. Stephen's Green
You see, they were a part of the great freedom dream
But they were caught and detained and are locked inside the frame of the photograph
And they might have been the clever con, the good Samaritan, the resplendent
And they might have been the loaded gun, the charlatan of the tap-dancin' fam
Like an old pioneer from outer Afghanistan
Headed for the number one hit country again
And it's true, true blue, Irish blue
And it's true, true blue, and sometimes it reminds me of you
And it's true, true blue, and sometimes it reminds me of you
Old Dan in a raincoat
Poems with very, very, very special notes
And his favorite melody
It reminds him of a love affair
When he was young and did not care
And how he parted so soft, so sadly
And it might have been the laughing cavalier
The wise old Camanchero
The desperate desperado
The good-lookin' red-haired Valentino
The gigolo from Glasgow
But like an old, old hunter of the female buffalo
He's headed for the number one hit country again
And it's true, true blue, Irish blue
And it's true, true blue, and sometimes it reminds me of you
And it's true, true blue, Irish blue
And it's true, true blue, and sometimes it reminds me of you
And it's true, true blue, Irish blue