Streets Of New York Lyrics

I was 18yrs old when I went down to Dublin
With a fistful of money and a cartload of dreams
"Take your time" said me father
Stop rushing like hell and remember all's not what it seems to be
[ Lyrics from: http://www.cloverlyrics.com/e106405-celtic_thunder~streets_of_new_york_lyrics.html ]
For there's fellas would cut ye for the coat on yer back
Or the watch that you got from your mother
So take care me young bucko
And mind yourself well and will ya give this wee note to me brother

At the time Uncle Benjy was a policeman in Brooklyn
And me father the youngest, looked after the farm
When a phone-call from America said
'Send the lad over'
And the oul' fella said 'Sure wouldn't do any harm'

For I've spent me life working this dirty old ground
For a few pints of porter and the smell of a pound
And sure maybe there's something you'll learn or you'll see
And you can bring it back home make it easy on me

So I landed in Kennedy and a big yellow taxi
Carried me and me bags through the streets and the rain
Well me poor heart was thumpin' around with excitement
And I hardly even heard what the driver was sayin'

We came in the Shore Parkway through the flatlands of Brooklyn
To me Uncle's apartment on East 53rd
I was feeling so happy I was humming a song
And I sang "You're as free as a bird"

Well to shorten the story what I found out that day
Was that Benjy got shot down in an uptown foray
And while I was flying my way to New York
Poor Benjy was lying in a cold city morgue.

Well I phoned up the old fella told him the news
I could tell he could hardly stand up in his shoes and he wept as he told me
'Go ahead with the plans
Never forget be a proud Irishman

So I went to Nellies beside Fordham road
And I started to learn about lifting the load
But the heaviest thing that I carried that year
Was the bittersweet thought of my hometown so dear

I went home that December 'cause the oul' fella died,
Had to borrow some money from Phil on the side
And all the bright flowers and brass couldn't hide
The poor wasted face of my father

I sold up the oul' farmyard for what it was worth
And into my bag stuck a handful of earth
Then I caught me a train and I boarded a plane
And I found myself back in the US again

It's been 22yrs since I've set foot in Dublin
Me kids know to use the correct knife and fork
But I'll never forget the green grass and the rivers
As I keep law and order on the streets of New York.