Crimson trees
\nShe\u2019s the goddess
\nAnd the children
\nAre waiting
\nGolden hair
\ngolden lips
\nGolden dress
\nwhose berating<\/p>\n
Litter bins
\nWarrington
\nTwo lads Had died
\nBlown away
\nAll that hate
\nOn that date
\nThey denied
\nJonathan Ball
\n3 years old
\nOn the spot
\nhe was killed
\nAnd Tim Parry
\n12 days later
\nHe got
\nHow he suffered
\n12 years old
\nA day before Mothers Day
\nOut buying presents
\nSo his family did say<\/p>\n
The anger the wrath
\nThe darkest of path
\nFrom that awful killing
\nZombie emerged
\nIn our heads from our beds
\nThe spirit Was purged
\nThe tanks and the bombs
\nThe violence the deaths
\nThe soldiers the rubble
\nThe vilest of trouble
\nWith so many breaths<\/p>\n
Lost on that day
\nFated and wrong
\nSo many suffering
\nAnd with this song
\nDolores You brought out
\nThe anger, the woe
\nThe rasp of the vocal
\nIt all seemed to grow
\nPainkillers and alcohol
\nVixenish, She
\nAlone by herself in a bath
\nShe was free
\nEyes closing supposing
\nThe warmth and the heat
\nThe soap in her nostrils
\nThe Swish of her feet<\/p>\n
Anger intensely
\nStraight from the heart
\nShe put everything into
\nThat song from the start
\nHer petulant feelings
\nMelancholic was she
\nAn Irish Lass born
\nNear the emerald Sea
\nThe grimness it rose
\nSo many suppose
\nSleepy and weepy
\nHer world realises
\nThe Cranberries music
\nLifted and drew
\nThe Audience with them
\nTheir songs Ever true<\/p>\n
In their hearts in the souls
\nOf those who protest
\nAnd all Of the roles
\nShe played Out on stage
\nHer guitar and her voice
\nHer energy swaying
\nIt was Always her choice
\nDolores we loved you
\nHow sad, you are no more
\nSo much you did Share
\nAnd How wonderfully raw
\nIt was and it is
\nWherever we hear
\nYour tonal direction
\nSo brilliantly clear
\nEmerging and urging
\nThose moments of fear<\/p>\n
The longest four years
\nThe Pedo a man
\nThat blackened her pure soul
\nPerhaps it was his plan
\nPillaged an angel
\nHer faith brought her through
\nAnd at her fathers funeral
\nWhat he tried to do <\/p>\n
Was suck up to heaven
\nThe devil incarnate
\nAnd Dolores was robbed
\nOf each spiral of fate
\nApologies cometh
\nSuch thoughts Were felt
\nFrom the charmingly beautiful
\nLeft just to melt<\/p>\n
Into her sadness
\nHer loss on the day
\nThat he dared to repeat
\nWhat her daddy might say
\nIn his flush of devotion
\nThat notion of care
\nHer feathers were broken
\nEternal despair.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Crimson trees She\u2019s the goddess And the children Are waiting Golden hair golden lips Golden dress whose berating Litter bins Warrington Two lads Had died Blown away All that hate On that date They denied Jonathan Ball 3 years old … Continue reading