At the Black Talon in Tullamore, Ireland

Did you hear of Jade? Where have you been, man? The news is all over town.

Jade, the pretty little maid who worked here, at this very tavern, serving behind that counter over yonder,

they say that she took a fall at the Narrows over the bridge rail.

They never found her body.

My guess is that it be half way to the Atlantic by now.

‘Tis a shame though. She was a pretty lass.

I think all the young men in the town had their eye glued to her, even when they couldn’t see her.

The mind can hold enough pictures to trap a person inside their own noggin for eternity,

sure ‘nough.

Ah, but the real tragedy is her ma.

All ol’ woman McKay held onto now that Jack’s gone.

Seems life tests most those already crumbled to bits.

Not fair if you ask me.

Not that I call anguish down on myself in place of her,

that would be asking for it, and when you ask, you receive.

No, I don’t wish it on meself, but I daresay,

fate could have chosen a more put together target if you be asking me.

You know though, one can’t help wonderin’ if it was an accident

or if the dame jumped.

Granted, she was a bright-eyed, black haired beauty, but her pa was gone, and if I do recall,

Mr. Donavan, that high bred Englishman she set her heart on had just refused her love.

After all the leadin’ on he done to her, it would be no wonder if she jumped.

I’ll ne’er let an Englishman near my daughter, Sara.

Mighty selfish action, though, if she didn’t account for her poor ma.

But I gather at the time, I suppose one figures the one’s they leave behind

that they’ll get over it.

Anything to justify our own escape passes by morality deaf ears, ye see.

Maybe she deserved it,

after all, she wasn’t no saint. But none of us are, I suppose.

I still say it’s a bloody shame she be gone now.

If they had found her body, maybe the druids in the north hills

could have brought her back to life, although,

I ain’t so sure anymore that they’ve got magic. Seems like rumors to me,

otherwise they’d have done something about this cursed drought already.

Well, Charlie, I’ll see out in the fields tomorrow.

I’m headin’ home to the wife.

She made me promise on me pa’s grave not to drink all night.