As you brush your shoes, stand before the mirror
And you comb your hair, grab your coat and hat
And you walk wet streets, tryin’ to remember
All the wild night breezes in your mem’ry ever
And as we walked
Through the streets of arklow
Oh the color
Of the day wore on
And our heads
Were filled with poetry
And the morning
A-comin’ on to dawn
Shammy cleaning all the windows
Singing songs about Edith Piaf’s soul
And I hear blue strains of no regredior
Across the street from Cathedral Notre Dame