Story Behind The Song

Cemetery Sunday is held in some towns in Ireland. Many expats return for Mass and a rosary at the cemetery. I combined this vivid image from my youth with a more recent memory of unwillingly leaving Dublin and returning to the States.

Song Description

Longing for Ireland. Being torn away rom a place.

Lyrics

Cemetery Sunday, Cemetery Sunday, blue skies
Walking from the Church to graveyard, I was happy, proud, to be by your side
I was melancholy, silly, called you jolly Molly, you smiled
You said ?only 24 and gawking at your family?s plot of land
Like a dead man talking, standing like a hero of the land, diy diy da?


It?s true I am a sentimental fool but baby, not for Erin
I knew you thought but wouldn?t say that it was just a mood that I was having
But I?m no schoolboy raised on blarney and touristy whiles
I?ve been bit by subtle humor I see through seasonal smiles
But when I stood upon that relic hill, I realized I wouldn?t want to go back
When I stood upon that relic hill, I realized, I?d have to go back

I went out walking, on that last day in Dublin, to the water
No water did I find, but February sunshine on my tears
I?d savored every moment, been aware, and had an eye
To my sweet soul?s content, no ingrate I,
But it does not matter when goodbye is still goodbye. Goodbye, goodbye

I walked out along that strand, maybe a mile or more,
Got swallowed up by all that flat land, turn around, small me, and faced the shore
In a dream or vision that I had I walked out to the Hill of Howth
Every grain of sand beneath my feet like all my broken hopes, my broken hopes

Let the tide rush in, let it drown me, let it turn me in
To just another lonely ghost, let the Lord of Hosts drown me, let him
Sink me if he can, I?d belly surf all the way to Blackrock

I cannot drown in Dublin; I can do no wrong in Ireland
I cannot drown in Dublin, in Dublin I float