Pogues - Lorca's Novena Lyrics
Ignacio lay dying in the sandA single red rose clutched in a dying handThe women wept to see their hero dieAnd the big black birds gathered in the skyMother of all our joys, mother of all our sorrowsIntercede with him tonightFor all of our tomorrowsThe years went by and then the killers cameAnd took the men and marched them up the hill of painAnd lorca the faggot poet they left till lastBlew his brains out with a pistol up his arseMother of all our joys, mother of all our sorrowsIntercede with him tonightFor all of our tomorrowsThe killers came to mutilate the deadBut ran away in terror to search the town insteadBut lorcas corpse, as he had prophesied, just walked awayAnd the only sound was the women in the chapel prayingMother of all our joys, mother of all our sorrowsIntercede with him tonightFor all of our tomorrows