We're a strange sort of people, aren't we?
Tonight an Irishman sang his heart out,
and we wept and danced in the course of his songs.

And we're a cold sort of people, aren't we?
Tonight we laughed and smoked through his songs.

And we're a soft and weak sort of people, aren't we?
Tonight we wept and wandered through his songs.

But the truth, we breathed through them, and in those moments we felt the weight of life in our veins and in our arms. It's a simple enough feeling, we understood what it means to be alive, and we let it show on our faces.

We're all human when the music is playing, we're all alive while he's singing sweet words.