Текст песни On Raglan Road - Luke Kelly
                                                On 
                                                Raglan 
                                                Road 
                                                on 
                                                an 
                                                autumn 
                                                day 
                                                    I 
                                                saw 
                                                her 
                                                first 
                                                and 
                                                knew
 
                                    
                                
                                                That 
                                                her 
                                                dark 
                                                hair 
                                                would 
                                                weave 
                                                    a 
                                                snare 
                                                that 
                                                    I 
                                                might 
                                                one 
                                                day 
                                                rue;
 
                                    
                                
                                                    I 
                                                saw 
                                                the 
                                                danger, 
                                                yet 
                                                    I 
                                                passed 
                                                along 
                                                the 
                                                enchanted 
                                                way,
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                    I 
                                                said, 
                                                let 
                                                grief 
                                                be 
                                                    a 
                                                fallen 
                                                leaf 
                                                at 
                                                the 
                                                dawning 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                day.
 
                                    
                                
                                                On 
                                                Grafton 
                                                Street 
                                                in 
                                                November 
                                                we 
                                                tripped 
                                                lightly 
                                                along 
                                                the 
                                                ledge
 
                                    
                                
                                                Of 
                                                the 
                                                deep 
                                                ravine 
                                                where 
                                                can 
                                                be 
                                                seen 
                                                the 
                                                worth 
                                                of 
                                                passion's 
                                                pledge,
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                Queen 
                                                of 
                                                Hearts 
                                                still 
                                                making 
                                                tarts 
                                                and 
                                                    I 
                                                not 
                                                making 
                                                hay
 
                                    
                                
                                                Oh 
                                                    I 
                                                loved 
                                                too 
                                                much 
                                                and 
                                                by 
                                                such 
                                                by 
                                                such 
                                                is 
                                                happiness 
                                                thrown 
                                                away.
 
                                    
                                
                                                    I 
                                                gave 
                                                her 
                                                gifts 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                mind 
                                                    I 
                                                gave 
                                                her 
                                                the 
                                                secret 
                                                sign 
                                                that's 
                                                known
 
                                    
                                
                                                To 
                                                the 
                                                artists 
                                                who 
                                                have 
                                                known 
                                                the 
                                                true 
                                                gods 
                                                of 
                                                sound 
                                                and 
                                                stone
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                word 
                                                and 
                                                tint 
                                                without 
                                                stint 
                                                for 
                                                    I 
                                                gave 
                                                her 
                                                poems 
                                                to 
                                                say.
 
                                    
                                
                                                With 
                                                her 
                                                own 
                                                name 
                                                there 
                                                and 
                                                her 
                                                own 
                                                dark 
                                                hair 
                                                like 
                                                clouds 
                                                over 
                                                fields 
                                                of 
                                                May
 
                                    
                                
                                                On 
                                                    a 
                                                quiet 
                                                street 
                                                where 
                                                old 
                                                ghosts 
                                                meet 
                                                    I 
                                                see 
                                                her 
                                                walking 
                                                now
 
                                    
                                
                                                Away 
                                                from 
                                                me 
                                                so 
                                                hurriedly 
                                                my 
                                                reason 
                                                must 
                                                allow
 
                                    
                                
                                                That 
                                                    I 
                                                had 
                                                loved 
                                                not 
                                                as 
                                                    I 
                                                should 
                                                    a 
                                                creature 
                                                made 
                                                of 
                                                clay
 
                                    
                                
                                                When 
                                                the 
                                                angel 
                                                woos 
                                                the 
                                                clay 
                                                he'd 
                                                lose 
                                                his 
                                                wings 
                                                at 
                                                the 
                                                dawn 
                                                of 
                                                day.
 
                                    
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