The old dark machine pulls and it shakes
It shudders when the earth quakes 
Entertaining no form of rain 
Though the ground is wet in vain 
And no grass grows up to meet
The pavement that they call a street 
And somehow I see it in her eyes
The part of her that dies 
Every time the house is empty 
And I was just a girl of twenty 
When I realised
That everybody dies 
Slowly but not all the same 
Some are not even given a name 
As in their mother’s womb they lie
And she in grief because they try and try
For so long to bequeath a child 
Now all they’re left with is the wild 
Of the Burren sparse and grey
Though beauty in its own way
Will rise up through the crevice crack 
From a life they can’t get back 
As they grasp and struggle and refrain 
I didn’t know that I could forgive the pain 

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