Reflections Of Life And Sheila

Sheila to me she will always be, a treasure that I’ll keep with me

Looking back through the years there have been good and bad times that I can see.

When I first saw her there in my home ,
I was red faced if you know what I mean .
Shy was I and couldn’t look in your eye ,
But never forgot what I’d seen .

From Flax Street you moved into my grannies
and from there what a time it was .

We were young and free in a time when life meant
Whatever anything does .

It was risky and I nearly needed some whisky the day I left her .

When ever I think of all that’s happened to us and all , its just not fair .

It all turned cold and I wasn’t that old
when I had to leave her behind .

I needed a lot more than tequila and Sheila
was always on my mind .

I’ve not forgot the spots we went to
Like Tobys hall and The Shamrock .

Throw up a coin heads it Ardoyne ,
if its tails you loose all you’ve got .

When I lost her in 72 things went all wrong and
my mind was shot .

Can’t tell you how I felt ,
the cards were dealt out and I had play the hand .

No denying it was crying time
For a stranger in a foreign land .

Tried to communicate with those who couldn’t relate here In Aussie Pubs .

Where do I begin I couldn’t fit in .
So I found an escape in drugs .

My life cut with a knife .
Hi-jacked by hard narcotics in 72 .

Hard fisted and twisted
Didn’t know what to do,
Returned to you know who .

To my home and Belfast town ,
They took me in,
tied me down and zapped my brain .

I became a person nobody knew .
I was to blame ,
I went insane .

Re-invented not demented .
It was time to return to Mum and Dad ,

I took on a job and shook off the mob
and won the respect I once had .

II got on my feet with a new monster to meet
in the shape of times lost .

On the scrap heap, my job couldn’t keep
Me from paying the ultimate cost .

Too old at 25 ,
I had to survive the late nineteen seventies .

Deep sleep therapy for my troubled memory
put me down on my knees .

Oh God I cried out don’t let me doubt this is something that you cannot fix .

My guts were spilled when my sister was killed
and my mind with anger was mixed .

In 1990 I had to flee and
back home to Belfast I was led

Unconscious on a bed ,
I was near half dead ,
But forgave the wrong instead .

Now at 55 I'm still alive living out days after the divorce .

It’s a heavy load and a hard road
But I know God is my only source .

So believe me when love leaves you
I know that God’s love alone will be there .

His spirit is falling when you’re calling
In trouble so never despair .

The years have me drained but I’ve found again ,
my friend Sheila and she is near .

I’ve written some stuff and hope its said enough ,
Of just what I lived down here .

By Paul McCann