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The Cobblestone
didn't intend to be in another Irish pub but it's raining and they're so much better in the land of saints and scholars where musicians don't play for tourists John a school teacher brought the fiddle that he learned to play at his mom's set dances (Set dancing lessons--Mondays 7pm) Sarah, the pretty lass the other side of me brought her mom Mom's sipping Jameson because it's the best she declares absolutely, I concur and clink my glass (of Powers) with hers sláinte Sarah's drinking ginger beer made right here at the Cobblestone I bought you one she informs you have to try it bartender lines it up with the two in front of me sláinte Sarah doesn't lie feeling toasty the burly man with the gravelly voice playing those raucous pub songs lays down his guitar and yells who's next John makes his way with Sarah and her mom following someone points to me you're with the ladies come on and they sit me down in musicians corner to hear an Irish girl sing a Scottish song And I know what I will do tomorrow When the hands are shaken and the kisses flow Then I will disappear hauntingly beautiful a fiddle, a sweet soprano and Irish eyes Oh, but let me tell you that I love you That I think about you all the time Caledonia you're calling me And now I'm going home oh, home
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