Across the Breeze - Luka Bloom

We are good people

We mean nobody harm

Beyond your cities

In bog lands and in farms

Close together

We love our place

We are strong

We face what we must face

I hear my father s voice across the breeze

Watch my children work all summer long

I see the turf smoke rising

From the chimney tops

Carrying our stories and songs

I hear my mother calling

The evening s closing in

Winter will be warm

When all the turf is stored

And come next springtime

We ll be bound for bog once

more

I hear my father s

voice

As my father did

So will I do

To the dream he lived by

I ll be true

For the skylark and the blackbird

Know me well

And this place without people

Has no tale to tell

I hear my father s voice across the breeze