Ireland — текст песни (Tori Amos)

So when I was out

In the desert

And a cowboy

Tried to lasso me

He said your red

And made of clay

A virgin portrait

I let him wake me

But decided not to stay



Next in New York

I fell out with a dragon

Of the white collar kind

But just as ferocious

I remembered Macha

Running faster than the horses

Then an encounter with

A voice that caressed me



Wasn`t it you who

Held off a surrender

To one spoiled nun

Who taught you the names

Of the mountains

On the moon

And then a Jesuit

Proceded to arrange your soul

While I prayed

On my knees