Lyrics Scapegoats - Christy Moore
There
was
five
men
playing
poker,
on
the
Heysham
train
Fate
was
dealing
them
a
cruel
hand;
Hugh
Callaghan
was
walking
home,
through
the
evening
rain
Not
knowing
what
lay
in
store
for
him.
You'll
find
traces
of
nitro
on
cigarettes
and
matches,
On
formica
tabletops
and
on
decks
of
playin'
cards;
When
forensic
found
traces
on
the
hands
of
these
six
men
The
police
drove
up
from
Birmingham,
They
were
hoping
the
case
was
closed.
Have
you
ever
seen
the
mugshots
that
were
taken
After
forty
eight
hours
in
custody?
Battered
and
bruised,
haunted
looks
upon
their
faces
The
judge
accepted
they
confessed
willingly
-
Please
take
another
look
at
what
you
see.
If
you
tell
me
my
family
are
being
terrorised,
Keep
me
awake
for
six
days
and
nights,
confused
and
terrified;
In
the
lonely
dark
of
night,
I'll
swear
that
black
is
white
-
If
you
let
me
just
lay
down
and
close
my
eyes;
I'll
sign
anything,
if
you
let
me
close
my
eyes.
Scales
of
justice,
balance
up
your
act
-
Am
I
talking
to
myself
or
to
the
wall?
Hugh
Callaghan,
Paddy
Hill,
Gerry
Hunter,
Johnny
Walker,
Billy
Power,
Dick
McIlkenny
scapegoats
all
For
sixteen
years
they've
been
talking
to
the
wall.
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