Jackie left on a cold, dark night Telling me he'd be home Sailed the seas for a hundred years Leaving me all alone And I've been dead for twenty years I've been washing the sand With my ghostly tears Searching the shores for my jackie-oh I remember the day the young man came He said, "your jackie's gone We got lost in the rain" And I ran to the beach And laid me down "You're all wrong", I said And they stared at the sand "That man knows that sea Like the back of his hand He'll be back some time Laughing at you" And I've been waiting all this time For my man to come Take his hand in mine And lead me away To unseen shores I've been washing the sand With my salty tears Searching the shore For these long years And I'll walk the seas forever more Till I find my jackie oh Till I find my jackie oh Till I find my jackie oh Jackie oh Jackie oh Jackie oh

I'm not no red football To be kicked around the garden, no, no I'm a red Christmas tree ball And I'm fragile I'm not no animal Though I am to you I'm not no crocodile Like the one in Dublin Zoo Who lived in a cage the length and breadth of his body With a window which people could look through And throw coins on his back to taunt him though he couldn't move Even if he wanted to I'm not no animal in the zoo I'm not no whipping boy for you You may not treat me like you do I'm not no animal in the zoo My skin is not a football for you My head is not a football for you My body's not a football for you My womb is not a football for you My heart is not a football for you I'm not no animal in the zoo This animal will jump up and eat you I'm not no animal in the zoo And I've every intention Of leaping up and getting you

Okay, I want to talk about Ireland Specifically I want to talk about the "famine" About the fact that there never really was one There was no "famine" See Irish people were only allowed to eat potatoes All of the other food, meat, fish, vegetables Were shipped out of the country under armed guard To England while the Irish people starved And then in the middle of all this They gave us money not to teach our children Irish And so we lost our history And this is what I think is still hurting me See we're like a child that's been battered Has to drive itself out of its head because it's frightened Still feels all the painful feelings But they lose contact with the memory And this leads to massive self-destruction Alcoholism, drug addiction All desperate attempts at running And in its worst form becomes actual killing And if there ever is gonna be healing There has to be remembering And then grieving So that there then can be forgiving There has to be knowledge and understanding All the lonely people Where do they all come from? An American army regulation Says you mustn't kill more than 10% of a nation 'Cause to do so causes permanent "psychological damage" It's not permanent but they didn't know that Anyway during the supposed "famine" We lost a lot more than 10% of our nation Through deaths on land or on ships of emigration But what finally broke us was not starvation But its use in the controlling of our education School go on about "Black 47" On and on about "The terrible famine" But what they don't say is in truth There really never was one (Excuse me) All the lonely people (I'm sorry, excuse me) Where do they all come from? (That I can tell you in one word) All the lonely people Where do they all belong? So let's take a look, shall we? The highest statistics of child abuse in the EEC And we say we're a Christian country But we've lost contact with our history See we used to worship God as a mother We're suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder Look at all our old men in the pubs Look at all our young people on drugs We used to worship God as a mother Now look at what we're doing to each other We've even made killers of ourselves The most child-like trusting people in the Universe And this is what's wrong with us Our history books, the parent figures, lied to us I see the Irish as a race like a child That got itself bashed in the face And if there ever is gonna be healing There has to be remembering and then grieving So that there then can be forgiving There has to be knowledge and understanding All the lonely people Where do they all come from? All the lonely people Where do they all come from? We stand on the brink of a great achievement In this Ireland there is no solution To be found to our disagreements By shooting each other There is no real invader here We are all Irish in all our different kinds of ways We must not, now or ever in the future Show anything to each other Except tolerance, forbearance and neighbourly love Because of our tradition, everyone here Knows who he is and what God expects him to do