The Wind That Shakes the Barley (Live from Théâtre St-Denis, Montreal, QC. October 2nd, 2005)

I sat within the barley green
I sat me with my true love
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 blowed down the glade
And shook the golden barley

'Twas 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

'Twas sad I kissed away her tears
My fond arm 'round her flinging
When a foreman's shot fell 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 Turtolo
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 whene'er I hear
Though in the shakes the barley