‘The Girl in the Cracked Window Pane’
© Joe Canning 2017. All Rights Reserved.

There’s an ale house in Boston;
Called Jack Healy’s bar,
Where I sat with my ol’ fella over a jar,
He sipped at the froth of a comforting beer,
With a letter that just came from Ireland.

In silence he sat and I saw a rare smile,
He said I’ll be with you in a little while,
“I’ve a note here that’s spinning my old head around,
It appears that your ol’ fella’s roots have been found”.

Chorus

In his face I saw pleasure, excitement and pain,
As he read the note over and over again,
A lifetime of searching and seeking his name,
And that of the girl in the cracked window pane.

I asked what the note said and he did confide,
He recalled as a small boy away back in time,
When he went with two strangers in a big fancy car,
And was taken away to a lifetime of scars.

He said he remembered her screaming in pain,
Restrained by a nun as she called out his name,
And he said “Son; it’s time to go back there again,
To unite with the girl in the cracked window pane.

Chorus

I held his old hand as he cried like a babe,
He told me the ghosts of his past had been laid,
And he stared at a photo that looked just like him,
‘Twas a snap of the girl in the cracked window pane.

In no time at all we were climbing the stairs,
Of a great silver bird that would carry us there,
And he banished his nightmares his suffering and pain,
When caressing the girl in the cracked window pane.

Chorus

The joy on my gran’s was priceless to see,
As she held the young lad that once sat on her knee,
And he vowed he would never be parted again;
From his mother; the girl in the cracked window pane.

Chorus

In his face I saw pleasure, excitement and pain,
As he read the note over and over again,
A lifetime of searching and seeking his name,
And that of the girl in the cracked window pane.

photo credit: lovesove.com