Flogging Molly - The Kilburn High

Listen to the sound of dead men dying
March as they flee but exile bound
Their ship once sailed no longer anchors
For gone is the green
And their hallowed ground

Toast to tears of times past glories
This ageless clock chime stalls
Where to kiss the lips of love forgotten
To fly where no others have soared
For we`re the kings of it all
From the day we were born
Now we`re the kings of the Kilburn High
Sure we`ll always take a drop and we`ll never leave a sup
Your empty glass is but a tear filled eye
We were the kings of the Kilburn High
We were the kings of the Kilburn High

Toast to tears of times past glories
This ageless clock chime stalls