Amsterdam you humid bastard
all my clothes are soaked
but I bought more in the second hand market
on Haarlemmer Road.
I fell in love with Vincent Van Gogh
he was just as fucked up as me
and I feel an affinity with anyone on the periphery.
I faced my childhood on the side of the road by the river down in Amsterdam.
Me and my mother, we took a plane
we went back again.
I met my mother, we got on the yellow tram line.
We were talking about Summer
a little girl who was a friend of mine.
We walked the old streets I played on
I was just a child then
we ended up at the old apartment
it used to be a heroin den.
Oh what’s worse is the silence that happened then
There is a place, north Donegal
some of my memories are there
the blonde and the brunette
the girl with the short hair.
It’s the place where I made
some of my earliest mistakes
the best thing that I ever did
was getting out of that place.
I remember the winter
the springtime and the autumn
but most of all those summer nights
we spent in her garden
and I’m going back there
no matter what you say
I’ve been invited
to her wedding day.
Stones’ throw from you.
It’s the lying, it’s the wasting
it’s the cheating on yourself
I’ll wait for love.
It’s the drugs, it’s the late nights
it’s the bottle I love the most
I’ll wait for love.
The autumn, the fading light
the darkening day, the compensating night.
I walked home, left it unsaid
with pounding heart I died a distant death.
The days draw down, dwindle, scatter
it all ends and none of it matters.
I linger on, become undone
I learn my fate is to always be in love.
Slip and slow down, square one again
I’ve made mistakes that I deeply regret
I’ve made mistakes again, again, again.
Born in Dublin in 1984, David Boland spent his childhood variously in Amsterdam, Dublin, Limerick, Shannon and Donegal. He has lived in Galway for the last decade where he is Artistic Director of An Áit Eile and curates the popular Citóg night in the Róisín Dubh. He also makes music under the name New Pope.