Sit Down By The Fire Lyrics - If I Should Fall From Grace With God - Pogues

Sit down by the fire 

And I'll tell you a story 

To send you away to your bed 

Of the things you hear creeping 

When everyone's sleeping 

And you wish you were out here instead 

It isn't the mice in the wall 

It isn't the wind in the well 

But each night they march 

Out of that hole in the wall 

Passing through on their way 

Out of hell 

They're the things that you see 

When you wake up and scream 

The cold things that follow you 

Down the Boreen 

They live in the small ring of trees on the hill 

Up at the top of the field 

And they dance on the rain 

And they dance on the wind 

They tap on the window 

When no-one is in 

And if ever you see them 

Pretend that you're dead 

Or they'll bite off your head 

They'll rip out your liver 

And dance on your neck 

They dance on your head 

They dance on your chest 

They give you the cramp 

And the cholic for jest 

They're the things that you see 

When you wake up and scream 

The cold things that follow you 

Down the Boreen 

They live in the small ring of trees on the hill 

Up at the top of the field 

They play on the wind 

They sing on the rain 

They dance on your eyes 

They dance in your brain 

Remember this place 

It is damp and it's cold 

The best place on earth 

But it's dark and it's old 

So lie near the wall 

And cover your head 

Good night and God bless, 

Now fuck off to bed