The Lonely Seanchai

The Lonely Seanchai

By Paul McCann

I was walking along through the streets at night,

with no place to call my own ,

everyone else  was  safe  in their beds,

 in the comfort of their Ardoyne home .

Sure the cold winds blew  and the snow fell down ,

around the streets of  Belfast town .

Around  and around , I walked through the night ,

with no where for me to lie down .

I’ve got both peeled ,out on the streets ,

for there’s  strangers and dangers around , 

you  never know you’d be talking to ,

on the streets around Belfast town .

There’d be no point trying to run away ,

when the banshees crying  at night, 

as she comb’s her hair , you’d better beware, 

just in case her comb would take flight .

Who’d want to be a Seanchai anyway ,

walking around everyday ,  

with banshees wailing , on ghost ships sailing ,

 looking to take someone away .