Ghost Town Blues Lyrics


The Way I’m Thinking 

Im sitting in the same spot 
I was sitting in when I got caught
Drinking and speeding trying to leave it all behind 
I worked myself into a state 
Looking at number plates 
Wondering where they are going why it taunts me 

Nothing is going to change the way I’m thinking tonight 
Where else can I go 
This old town doesn’t feel like home 
And nothing is going to change the way I’m thinking tonight 

This town is no destination
It’s just somewhere you pass through 
And I piss away my days pumping diesel for you 
I work at a filling station 
Watching all the cars go by 
Sometimes I close my eyes and I’m out on the road 

So now i have a bottle 
It sits on the passenger seat 
Don’t you judge me on the company I keep 

Hometown Boy 
I’ve got this picture hanging on my wall 
It has been there as long as I can recall 
It is in the house I still call home 
And I will until the day I die 
Because they say I’ve got his eyes 
And they say I have his smile 
I don’t remember to much about my grandaddy 
He died when I was still a child 

Oh I’m a hometown boy 
Back home in Islandmoyle 
Oh I’m a hometown boy 
Back home in Islandmoyle 

There is something else I would like you to see 
It dates back to 1943 
It was passed down from her to me 
They say It runs in the family 
Though I never heard play 
And I never heard her sing 
Not once would she ever complain 
My granny was one hell of a lady 


The phone rings it’s 2am 
Sir can you come down to the station 
I jump in my car and I take off 
With just a minutes hesitation 
I’m driving down the 405 
The car the road in my head 
Streetlights are lighting nothing at all 
The hum of tarmac on tyre thread 

He’s always right even when he is wrong 
And his debts are always due 
Any other man I’d have left long ago 
But when it’s blood what do you do 

I get to the station at 3am 
Sir do you know this man? 
I look at the pile of wine and clothes 
That’s my brother Dan 
We drag him out to the car 
And we put him in the seat 
They found him passed out, drink and drugs 
He was lying in a stream 

I take him home and clean him up 
I put a man to bed 
There is no point in talking any sense 
He will forget it anyway 
I rub my eyes and grab a drink 
To quiet the thoughts in my head 
It’s 4am and Dan’s alright 
And I’m going back to bed 

He is always right even when he is wrong 
and his debts are always due 
Any other man I’d have left long ago 
But when it’s blood what do you do 
He will take your money without a second glance 
Leave a fistful of I owe yous 
Any other man I’d have left long ago 
But when it’s blood what do you do 

I’m A Son 

I’ve been a rambler since I left home 
Heading yonder down the old dirt roads 
I had no plan on what road to take 
I never worried about my mistakes 
So I signed up for my issued boots 
Some time a boy will do what he needs to do 
I kissed my mother when I said goodbye 
But I saw fear in my Daddy’s eyes 

Because I’m a Soldier 
And I’m A son 
And this war is all but one 
And my roaming days are done 
Im just trying to come home 

I spent two years inside this hell 
Working hard to avoid them shells 
I am not a brave man I just want to survive 
I want to come back home alive 
I’m fighting for richer men than me 
Over reasons I don’t believe 
I understand my Daddy’s fear 
They would never send their own son here 

Faces & Names 
The first one in the last out the door 
with a whiskey throat he leaves the bar 
Leans against the door underneath a solitary street light 
He lights a cigarette then he stumbles off into the night 
In a Town he once knew so well 
The sounds of the backstreets and even the smells 
He feels lost like a stranger dropped into a new world 
I heard him mutter to himself this whole town is going to hell 

I don’t know what he is looking for 
He has been that way as far as I can recall 
If it wasn’t for bad he would have no luck at all 
I’m not saying what he should do 
It’s hard to know until you lace up his boots 
But it’s funny how your circumstances soon come to define you 

Now the old timers talk back at the bar 
About how his eyes used to shine like stars 
Until his wife left,  Oh he loved his Cathy 
The stories they tell, he sounds like a stranger to me 
I’ve known him the guts of fifteen years 
I brought it up once over a beer 
He said why’d you bring her up Im still trying to live that down 
Then he took to his drink like all he wanted to do was drown 

Long Way Home 

I ran into your brother 
Out on the street 
He was looking so lost 
Could barely stand on his two feet 
So i picked him up 
Drove him home 
I’ve never seen a grown man so confused and alone 

I know he has his problems 
He is just trying to deal with 
He took to the bottle 
And he ain’t been the same since 
And I know you try to catch him when he falls 
He is taking the long way home 

Well he mumbled an apology 
Hoped you’d stand by his side 
He said that he will try again 
That he will try and he will try 
He said there’d be no more excuses 
There’d be more last calls 
He said I hope I’ve hit rock bottom 
Because I’m sick and tired of the fall 

Streets Of Belfast 

I grew up on the streets of Belfast 
In a time when the troubles were almost confined to the past 
I was just a kid who never understood sides 
Me and my friends we crossed the divide 
My father was a good man, he worked on the ships 
They called him the paddy boy, he called them the brits 
But he would say it with laughter and always with a smile 
Providing for the family under the same God’s eye 

So I’m not saying whose right 
All I know is it is wrong 
That a man can die and in the blink of an eye 
He can leave a fatherless son 
Leaving a fatherless Son 

My uncle he is a different story, he never caught a break 
He would never look in the mirror though, 
was always someone he could blame 
He would go out drinking and his tongue would get loose 
My Da would get a call from one of the fella’s at the yard and go drag him out 
One night he was driving, It was up on the Shankhill 
A couple of fellas he met over at Maginn’s place 
They had a sawed off in the backseat 

I remember the sirens, how they drowned out the church bells 
My mother was wearing out the carpets with her pacing 
Just waiting on the phone to ring 
But there was a knock on the door, My Da grabbed his coat 
It was six oclock it was mid december 
and it had just started to snow 
So I took off after him, I remember I had to run 
And I swear in the dark evenings I still hear the gun.

Leave a comment

    Add comment