Letras
When we were kids we used to go over the back wall
Into old Dan's scrapyard
Into the snooker hall
Where most us kids were barred
Into the Roxy and the Stella
Where film stars starred
That's where me and Hopalong and Roy Rogers got drunk and charred
And we might have been the saviour of the men
The captured kept in the Devil's demon den
We might have been the magic politicians
In some kind of tricky positions
But like an old, old, old master musician
We kept on wishing
We 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
Standing 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 razz-clad man
And they might have been the loaded gun
The charlatan of the tap dancing fan
But 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 he might have been the laughing caballero
The wise old comanchero
Or the desperate desperado
The good looking red down 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