Sweet Athlone from Wounded World by Jim Page

standin’ by the river in the rain
just came in on the Dublin train
my collar up, my head is wet
I light a soggy cigarette

such memories to dwell upon
have you missed well me since I’ve been gone?
my guitar in a shoulder case
the music is my saving grace

as long as I'm here I'm home
in Sweet Athlone

I am a tradesman of rare device
a troubadour with lucky dice
I show up with a bag of songs
collect my wages, move along

sometimes people that I see
maybe wish that they could be like me
and I wish that I could be like them
and never have to leave again

as long as I'm here I'm home
in Sweet Athlone

to see the seasons come and go
the summer green, winter snow
i’d I wear my heart upon my sleeve
i’d fall in love and never leave

but something in me won’t allow
and yes i’ve learned to love it now
my obligations on the lam
and home is wherever I am

as long as I'm here I'm home
in Sweet Athlone

I sing my way around
the outback roads, the little towns
a stranger’s meal, a cuppa tea
all the world’s a mirror to me

as long as memory remains
I’ll not forget the Dublin train
the river and the songs we knew
and mostly I’ll remember you

as long as I'm here I'm home
in Sweet Athlone

• Americana
• Folk
• alternative
• folk
• indy folk
• poltical
• Seattle