I'll ride again o'er the border, if it takes me all my days
Where the sun rises through the pollution and sets her walls ablaze
Gimme somethin to help with the shakin' or to kill the roarin' pain
It's the sound of a sweet heart breakin' 400 miles
away
Oh, have ye known the sting of sweet regret
Or have ye no started living yet
And the cheap lousy dram trembles there in his hand
as he struggles to recall what she wore
He can still see her face in that charming old plac
e and he'll never forget how she swore
'In all fairness' he says, 'it's all good I suppose'
And his eyes turn the colour of his crooked old nose
He drains the tumbler and straightens his clothes
And he's away with the wind, away
In all these broken windows, through the tattoos and the scars
He'll catch his own reflection across a thousand other bars
Until he rides again o'er the border, if it takes him all his days
To where the sun rises through the pollution
400 miles away