Opens his hand, reads his name, 
grabs the bottle & swallows again. 
Thinks of the wife he's left behind, 
touches the photo & closes his eyes. 
Thinks of the time where he walked from the street. 
Under the light & killed a man dead. 

chroí, chroí, chroí dearg, stad do bhualadh, tá mé gan dóchas!
(my red heart stop beating, I am without hope). 

Whiskey burned [bad word] crashing to the floor. 
For each one that's gone there's twenty-five more 
that'll burn him & [bad word] him right through to the core. 
He's filled with the thoughts of those gone before. 

He opens his mouth & all [bad word] out 
is a fractured song from a fractured heart.
He grabs the bottle & swallows again, 
picks up the blade that's singin his name.