The hop jig we've used here is in 9/8 time and is called The Humours of
Whiskey
I see the last black swan
Fly past the sun
I wish I, too, were gone
Back home again
It seems our fortunes lied
Despite our gain
Our tears fall like our pride
We cry in shame
Now we've got time to kill!
Kill the shadows on our skin
Kill the fear that grows within
Killing time, my friend
I stare into your eyes
But can't see far
You cut me down to size
You bring the dark
My body's black and sore
I need to sleep
Now hear the heaven's roar
I can't escape
Now we've got time to kill!
Kill the shadows on our skin
Kill the fear that grows within
Killing time, my friend