We, the drowned

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We, the drowned
hold our hollow-hearted ground
til we swallow ourselves down
again

We, the ashes
we spend our days like matches
and we burn our ships as black as
the air in the end

We know not the fire in which we burn
and we sing, and we sing, and the flames go higher
We read not the pages which we turn
but we sing, and we sing, and we sing, and we sing

We the drowned
the lost and found
out
we are all finished

*

– Lisa Hannigan

I saw her sing this last night in Melbourne, just a stunning, big, generous concert with Glen Hansard & the Frames, three and a half hours non-stop playful bliss

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