Hearts Made Of Stone
There is a little grave yard in Connemara, that is full of little boys
People come and visit them, taking teddy bears and toys
Each child has a head stone, their name on a little heart
It simply gives their name and age, not how they came to part
People come and visit them, taking teddy bears and toys
Each child has a head stone, their name on a little heart
It simply gives their name and age, not how they came to part
♞♜♝
A little wall surrounds it, and a plaque beside the gate
It makes the hair rise on your neck, when you read their terrible fate
‘They took away our childhoods’ is simply what it states
Little children ripped from their families, by a cruel religious state
It makes the hair rise on your neck, when you read their terrible fate
‘They took away our childhoods’ is simply what it states
Little children ripped from their families, by a cruel religious state
♞♜♝
They beat them without mercy, with no one to hear their cries
They lay alone on horse hair beds, with no one to dry their eyes
Then the dark figures visited them, towering from high above
Made them do cruel things, that should only be done in love
They lay alone on horse hair beds, with no one to dry their eyes
Then the dark figures visited them, towering from high above
Made them do cruel things, that should only be done in love
♞♜♝
‘They never showed us love, they didn’t give a care’
these words written on the wall plaque, will remain for ever there
The locals tend to the graves, in a tender loving way
people visit in silence, sure what else can they say?
these words written on the wall plaque, will remain for ever there
The locals tend to the graves, in a tender loving way
people visit in silence, sure what else can they say?
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