Don't look out of the window my Mother said,
Or the Gypsies will take you when you're asleep
in your bed.
But despite being curious about the noises outside,
We obeyed our Mother and went to our bedroom to hide.
Don't look at those people coming our way through
the arch,
So we kept looking away as beside us they marched.
On a busy Derry street going off to buy new shoes,
The thunderous sound in the distance would soon hit
the news.
To a small child of six nothing makes sense,
Though deep down inside I felt the atmosphere
was tense.
We couldn't look out of the window and I wondered why,
Little did I know then that bullets filled the sky.
Even now marching bands send shivers down my spine,
Stiring memories of marches I saw back in those times.
And the memory of the shoes it still lingers on,
And I realise in the background was the sound of
an exploding bomb.
But I was a child then and I couldn't see,
Anything beyond beauty in this country so green.
But as I've grown older I now understand,
The sorry tale of this beautiful land.
And one day I hope all the fighting will cease,
And one day in Ireland there shall forever be peace.
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