“My Lagan Love” promo single

(Sinéad O'Connor/Dónal Lunny/Alan Branch/A. Maxwell/Steve Wickham/Professor Stretch/Lockett)

Where Lagan stream sing lullabies

There blows a lily fair.

The twilight gleam is in her eye,

The night is on her hair.

And, like a love sick leannán sí,

She hath my heart in thrall.

No life have I, no liberty,

For love is lord of all.

And often when the beetle's horn

Has lulled the eye to sleep,

I steal into her shieling lorn,

And through the doorway creep.

There on the crickets' singing-stone

She makes the bogwood fire,

And sings in sweet and undertone,

The song of heart's desire.

(Sinéad O'Connor/Dónal Lunny/Alan Branch/A. Maxwell/Steve Wickham/Professor Stretch/Lockett)

Where Lagan stream sing lullabies

There blows a lily fair.

The twilight gleam is in her eye,

The night is on her hair.

And, like a love sick leannán sí,

She hath my heart in thrall.

No life have I, no liberty,

For love is lord of all.

And often when the beetle's horn

Has lulled the eye to sleep,

I steal into her shieling lorn,

And through the doorway creep.

There on the crickets' singing-stone

She makes the bogwood fire,

And sings in sweet and undertone,

The song of heart's desire.

(Sinéad O'Connor/Dónal Lunny/Alan Branch/A. Maxwell/Steve Wickham/Professor Stretch/Lockett)

Where Lagan stream sing lullabies

There blows a lily fair.

The twilight gleam is in her eye,

The night is on her hair.

And, like a love sick leannán sí,

She hath my heart in thrall.

No life have I, no liberty,

For love is lord of all.

And often when the beetle's horn

Has lulled the eye to sleep,

I steal into her shieling lorn,

And through the doorway creep.

There on the crickets' singing-stone

She makes the bogwood fire,

And sings in sweet and undertone,

The song of heart's desire.

(Sinéad O'Connor/Dónal Lunny/Sharon Shannon/Alan Branch/Kieran Kiely/Rob Ó Géibheannaigh)

We were homeward bound one night, on the deep.

Swinging in my hammock, I fell asleep.

I dreamed a dream, and I thought it true,

Concerning Franklin and his gallant crew.

With a hundred seamen he sailed away

To the frozen ocean in the month of May

To seek a passage around the pole,

Where all poor sailors do sometimes go.

Through cruel hardships they vainly strove.

The ship on mountains of ice was drove.

Only the Eskimo, in his skin canoe,

Was the only one that ever came through.

In Baffin Bay, where the whalefish blow,

The fate of Franklin, no man may know.

The fate of Franklin, no tongue can tell,

And Lord Franklin among his seamen do dwell.

And now my burden, it gives me pain.

For my Lord Franklin, I'd sail the main.

Ten thousands pounds I would freely give

To know Lord Franklin and where he is.

(Prince)

It's been seven hours & fifteen days

Since u took your love away.

I go out every night & sleep all day

Since u took your love away.

Since u been gone, I can do whatever I want,

I can see whomever I choose.

I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant.

But nothing,

I said nothing can take away these blues,

'Cos nothing compares,

Nothing compares 2 u.

It's been so lonely without you here,

Like a bird without a song.

Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling.

Tell me, baby, where did I go wrong?

I could put my arms around every boy I see,

But they'd only remind me of you.

I went to the doctor and guess what he told me,

Guess what he told me.

He said, "Girl, u better have fun

No matter what u do."

But he's a fool,

'Cos nothing compares,

Nothing compares 2 u.

All the flowers that u planted, mama,

In the back yard

All died when u went away.

I know that living with u baby was sometimes hard,

But I'm willing to give it another try,

'Cos nothing compares,

Nothing compares 2 u.

(Sinéad O'Connor/Dónal Lunny/Alan Branch/A. Maxwell/Steve Wickham/Professor Stretch/Lockett)

Where Lagan stream sing lullabies

There blows a lily fair.

The twilight gleam is in her eye,

The night is on her hair.

And, like a love sick leannán sí,

She hath my heart in thrall.

No life have I, no liberty,

For love is lord of all.

And often when the beetle's horn

Has lulled the eye to sleep,

I steal into her shieling lorn,

And through the doorway creep.

There on the crickets' singing-stone

She makes the bogwood fire,

And sings in sweet and undertone,

The song of heart's desire.