I walk the streets of Dublin It's 1842 It's snowing on this Christmas Eve Think I'll beg another bob or two I'll huddle in this doorway here Till someone comes along If the lamplighter comes real soon Maybe I'll go home with him.
Maybe I can find a place I can call my home Maybe I can find a home I can call my own
The horses on the cobbled stones pass by Think I'll get one, one fine day And ride into the countryside And very far away But now as the daylight disappears I best find a place to sleep Think I'll slip into the bell tower In the church just down the street
Maybe I can find a place I can call my home Maybe I can find a home I can call my own
Maybe on the way I'll find the dog I saw the other night And tuck him underneath my jacket So we'll stay warm through the night And as we lie in the bell tower high And dream of days to come The bells o'erhead will call the hour The day we will find a home. -- "Dicken's Dublin (The Palace)", by Loreena McKennitt
Taken on December 29th, 2004 in Lillaz, Val di Cogne.
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