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Jackson brought this haunting mandolin lick to me and I began writing the song as if I already knew the story. Rather spooky really.
True Story brought to us by Jackson Flading of an old drinking mate from Ireland.
He hung himself in an old 400 years tenement in Amsterdam. He was an IRA gun runner, a bar knuckle fighter and a man you did not want to piss off. Paddy is remembered in th
Music & lyrics by Roger Bolt, Jackson Flading
and JoAnna Noble
My soul is lost; I'm the Hooligan,
My life has vanished away.
With a small wee tear that no one sees
But me and my angel dear.
Lost in a dream was the hooligan,
With the night wind soft on his face.
A night bird song from his angel's sweet voice
His spirit surrenders to peace.
If I had a chance to do it all again
My choice would not be the same.
Pain and anger I would not sustain,
Torment would not be my name.
I am what I am and I must pay the price
For the pain I've brought to this life.
So let it read on my epitaph,
I am the hooligan.