Apple Of My Eye - Damien Dempsey

Flying o'r the sea,
My guitar and me.
Thirty thousand feet,
What a brilliant feat.

Go west, don't go east,
A famine or a feast.
We're treated better there,
A homeless one is rare.

I feel,
The city's lure.
The apple of my eye,
I cherish her.

Everybody's here,
From all across the earth,
Tongues and tribes galore,
There isn't any war.