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Recorded in 2006 at The Point Theatre, Dublin. Subscribe to Christy Moore on YouTube: https://ChristyMoore.lnk.to/DSPAY/youtube Listen Spotify: https://ChristyMoore.lnk.to/DSPAY/spotify Apple Music: https://ChristyMoore.lnk.to/DSPAY/applemusic Amazon Music: https://ChristyMoore.lnk.to/DSPAY/amazonmusic Deezer: https://ChristyMoore.lnk.to/DSPAY/deezer Follow Official Website: https://www.christymoore.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/officialchristymoore Twitter: https://twitter.com/christymoore45 ----- Lyrics I was 18 when I came to town They called it the summer of love Burning babies, burning flags The hawks against the doves I took a job at the steaming way Down on Caltrim St Fell in love with a laundry girl That was workin' next to me Brown hair zig zagged across her face And a look of half surprise Like a fox caught in the headlights There was animal in her eyes She said to me "Can't you see I'm not the factory kind? If you don't take me out of here I'll surely lose my mind" She was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing So fine, a breath of wind might blow her away She was a lost child, she was runnin' wild (She said) "So long as there's no price on love, I'll stay You wouldn't want me any other way" We busked around the market towns Fruit pickin' down in Kent We could tinker pots and pans Or knives, wherever we went We were campin' down the Gower one time The work was mighty good She wouldn't wait for the harvest I thought we should I said to her we'll settle down Get a few acres dug A fire burning in the hearth And babies on the rug She said, "Oh man, you foolish man That surely sounds like hell You might be lord of half the world You'll not own me as well" She was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing So fine, a breath of wind might blow her away She was a lost child, she was runnin' wild (She said) "So long as there's no price on love, I'll stay You wouldn't want me any other way" We were drinking more in those days Our tempers reached a pitch Like a fool I let her run away When she took the rambling itch Last I heard she was living rough Back on the Derby beat A bottle of White Horse in her pocket A Wolfhound at her feet They say that she got married once To a man called Romany Brown Even a gypsy caravan Was too much like settlin' down They say her rose has faded Rough weather and hard booze Maybe that's the price you pay For the chains that you refuse She was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing I miss her more than ever, words can say If I could just taste all of her wildness now If I could hold her in my arms today I wouldn't want her any other way #ChristyMoore, #Live, #Official, #ThePoint, #Dublin, #Ireland, #Acoustic, #Folk, #Irish