Lowest Of The Low

St.Brendan's Way

Lowest Of The Low


Our fortunes are fleeting 
And our passage in steer 
And God knows if I'll perish 
In my twenty-fifth year 

In this ship full of scurvy 
With my bride at my hand 
But I shall kiss her tenderly 
In the great Newfoundland 

And it's love/hope that we follow today 
If we dare follow St. Brendan's way 

Our fathers were tillers 
And our mothers knew chance 
And we've tasted hunger 
In Ireland and France 

And these seeds of misfortune 
St. Bartholomew's Day 
Shall be drowned in the new world 
Chosen St. Brendan's way 

There's a light shining on you tonight 
A siren call, a harbour town, a northern light 

A curse on the Union Jack 
On it's empire and lance 
And I'll piss on the troubled head 
Of king Charles of France 

But that's all behind us now a thousand miles away 
And nothing can match the beauty 
In the sight of Gaspe 

There's salt on your naked skin 
And there's salt in my tears 
And without you I'd pass away 
Under these privateers 

But that baby inside you 
Is the work of our hand 
A child of the revolution 
And a free thinking man