A monologue to an Irish man - Act three

I´ve been walking
the streets of Dublin.
It´s almost rain, it´s almost wind.
I betrayed you on the cornner of the block,
thinking this might be London.

It could never be!

Maybe I am the bomb
that was droped by you
to explode...that past.
I am the machinery of lovers that
walk on London streets...believing.

Fields of churches
I won´t bother to stop
I can pray, for you lord
in any bit of green,
in any lapse of faith
holding my own hand.

Drop the bomb!
I wish I was dead for a cause
good as a country stuck in my heart.