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The Wind That Shakes the Barley - Live from Paleis voor Schone Kunsten, Brussels, Belgium. March 17th, 2005
Dead Can Dance
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I sat within the barley field
I sat me with my true love
And my sad heart strove the two between
The old love and the new love
The old for her, the new that made me think
Of Ireland dearly
While soft the wind blew down the glade
And shook the golden barley
It was hard the woeful words to frame
To break the ties that bound us
And harder still to bear the shame
Of foreign chains around us
And so I said, "The mountain glen
I'll meet at morning early
And I'll join the bold United men,"
While soft winds shook the barley
It was sad I kissed away her tears
My fond arm around her flinging
When a foreman's shuffle stung our ears
From out the wild woods ringing
A bullet pierced my true love's side
In life's young spring so early
And on my breast in blood she died
While soft winds shook the barley
But blood for blood without remorse
I've ta'en to Church Hollow
I've lain my true love's clay-like corpse
Where I'll fall soon must follow
Around her grave I've wandered drear
Noon, night and morning early
With a breaking heart when near I hear
The wind that shakes the barley