Mystic Lipstick - Christy Moore

She wears mystic lipstick

She wears stones and bones

She tells myth and legend

She sings rock and roll

She wears chains of bondage

She wears wings of hope

She wears the gown of plenty

And still it’s hard to cope

Chroi O mo chroi

Your heart is breaking

Your eyes are red, your song is blue

Your poets underneath the willow in despair

They have been lovers of your sad tune

Lovers of your slow air

She keeps fools for counsel

She keeps the wig and gown

The cloth and the bloddy warfare

The stars and stripes and crown

And still we pray for a better day now

God willing it’s for the best

But I’ve just seen the harp on the penny

With a dollar on her naked breast

Chroi O mo chroi…

And though they feed on what hurts you

To sing the book of your heart

Oh sweeet Black Rose

How they’ve loved you

And it’s hard to

But they do, Eire, they do

Chroi O mo chroi…

Lovers in sweet despair