Texty: Declan De Barra. 57 years.

I am the stain that refuses to wash out your history,
I had hand in all the things that made your country great.
I built your roads and canals and buildings.
Now I lie in their shelter in disgrace.
We became shadows on barstools who were former kings of men.
Inside I'm broken outside i don't care at all.
I was a fit man I was a strong man with the strength of an ox,
Now i'm just a shadow of myself underneath this cardboard box.
I drank to many who had drunk themselves to death.
I stood at the back of funerals and watched them pour dirt.

This has been my 57 years
This has been my 57 years
He's falling, she's falling, we're falling now

I sent money home to my mam and sisters but never quite made it home myself
I'll tell you one thing I can sing a song
I got no bed, I broke my hip and dived further into the sea of drink.
I met a girl but we both lost our way and ended up on the bench,
I still drink to Ciara this very day.
I worked harder than any man has ever known,
we came to make our fortunes but we lost our very souls.
I worked my existence to the marrow of the bone
We are the ghosts of Camden and we are never returning home.

This has been my 57 years
This has been my 57 years
He's falling, she's falling, we're falling now