Оригинален текст
(chorus:)
You dance like youre drunk but you sing like youre sober
You pulled the last pint when the party was over
When youre alone and you lie in your bed.
The rain on the roof is the dance of the dead.
The boys from the Bronx and Belturbet, Bundoran,
Brighton and Bray, theyre all shouting and brawling
Theyre routing reflection, a kiss or a sigh
To forget or recall the old days long gone by.
And its up in the morning, and after the evening
The wordless goodbye and the silently leaving
You turned on your side, and the dream in the bed
Was a far distant cry from the one in your head.
(chorus)
Chimeras and fantasies merging together
And thoughts of a life of a far-different feather
They brought us to where we are now that were here
Is it better or worse than we hoped and we feared?
Pioneers, drunkards, pilgrims and rovers,
Bridges of bone and of gold to cross over
The beckoning bar with its circle of light
And the voice and the laugh that ring out in the night.