The Rusty Anchor The Letter from the Dust

Dear Mother, do you mind the smell of Galway bay?
The mist upon the heather and the salt upon the spray?
Out here the land is hollow, and the sun is made of brass
There ain’t no hope for travelers but shadows in the grass
I wore my fingers weary, I swung the heavy sledge
But they drove us like the winter to the lonely canyon’s edge
So I followed restless riders just to find a silver way
Oh, Mother, find a prayer for the son who went astray

The iron horse was wailing, the sky was turning red
Now Liam’s in the valley with the stars above his head
The heavy gold is hollow, and the rain is on my hand
An Irishman’s a stranger in a cold and dusty land

My brother chased the lightning, so fearless and so young
With dreams of green horizons, and the songs of home were sung
But the iron law was faster, it broke the morning light
I held him in the silence, and I felt the coming night
I carried him a long mile, I whispered, Wait for dawn
But the fire in his spirit and the emerald spark were gone

I’m writing by a candle, with a heart that’s made of stone
The prairie is a desert and I’m standing all alone
The wind is calling loudly, and the trail is getting cold
A story left unfinished and a tale that’s never told

Just send this back to Galway, beneath the rainy sky
Tell the hills of Ireland where the weary exiles lie