Black Haired Boy - Shannon McNally

But he’s a black haired boy of some confusion

He makes no excuse for the things that he’s using

And he’s gentle and wild, a child of the mountain

His words are for singing and his days are for counting

He’s looking for a home, he’s scared to find

Some lady beside him and he’s drunk on white wine

Some lady beside him and he’s drunk on white wine

But he’s a devil in the morning and a saviour at night

Tomorrow’s a case of whatever is right

Lonesome and high are the things that he feels

And the cards that he plays are the ones that he deals

But he’s one of the chances you’re entitled to take

He’s one of the hearts that it’s too late to break

I’ve seen him be sad and never know why

Seen him fall down to laugh, seen him stand up to cry