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You took a train to the south side of Boston,
You showed me where your old man stayed,
Took 28 years of blood I was lost in,
To feel loved on my own birthday,
I always felt like I’s in between something,
Like home and somewhere far away,
But tonight on the west side in a bar out in Brooklyn,
I saw tears outline your face,
How lucky are we?
It’s been a hell of a week, but we’re all grown now,
There’s smoke seeping out, of your bloody teeth,
But you’re home somehow,
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I’ll be upstairs with the guitar I’s given,
When I was barely fourteen,
When did McGlinchey’s get so damn crowded,
And why are the crowds so damn green?
I lost my mind on the streets of the city,
Maybe I lost all hope too,
Took 28 years of blood pumping through me,
To get to this evening with you,
How lucky are we?
It’s been a hell of a week, but we’re all grown now,
There’s smoke seeping out, of the bar down the street
But we’re home somehow,
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How lucky are we?
It’s been a hell of a week, but we’re all grown now,
There’s smoke seeping out, of the bar down the street
But we’re home somehow,
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You took a train to the south side of Boston,
You showed me where your whole heart stayed,
Took twenty-eight years of blood pumpin' through me,
To feel loved on my own birthday
