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We Don't Eat - James Vincent McMorrow

We Don't Eat

Early in the Morning
folk singer-songwriter irish acoustic Chuck



James Vincent McMorrow is an Irish singer-songwriter from Dublin, Ireland. McMorrow began performing under his own name in 2007, releasing an EP entitled The Sparrow and the Wolf in 2008. His debut album, Early in the Morning, was released in February 2010 via Believe Recordings in Ireland. The album's momentum was initially slow, but the use of one of the album's songs on Grey's Anatomy sparked interest in the US and in Europe. The album was released to the rest of the world in March 2011; and charted in the top 30 in Ireland and Norway. Show more ...

We Don't Eat - James Vincent McMorrow

If this is redemption, why do I bother at all?
There's nothing to mention, and nothing has changed
Still I'd rather be working for something, than praying for the rain
So I wander on, 'til someone else is saved

I moved to the coast, under a mountain
Swam in the ocean, slept on my own
At dawn I would watch the sun cut ribbons through the bay
I'd remember all the things my mother wrote

That we don't eat until your father's at the table
We don't drink until the devil's turned to dust
Never once has any man I've met been able to love
So if I were you, I'd have a little trust

Two thousand years, I've been in that water
Two thousand years, sunk like a stone
Desperately reaching for nets
That the fishermen have thrown
Trying to find, a little bit of hope

Me, I was holding all of my secrets soft and hid
Pages were folded, then there was nothing at all
So if in the future I might need myself a saviour
I'll remember what was written on that wall

That we don't eat until your father's at the table
We don't drink until the devil's turned to dust
Never once has any man I've met been able to love
So if I were you, I'd have a little trust

Am I an honest man and true?
Have I been good to you at all?
Oh I'm so tired of playing these games
We'd just be running down
The same old lines, the same old stories of
Breathless trains and, worn down glories
Houses burning, worlds that turn on their own

So we don't eat until your father's at the table
We don't drink until the devil's turned to dust
Never once has any man I've met been able to love
So if I were you my friend,
I'd learn to have just a little bit of trust



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