[Verse 1 — Angry]
Creak of a suitcase on the floor, passport worn at the seam,
Photos tacked to plaster, children's faces in a beam.
Stamped papers on the table, a file number like a brand,
Late-night Skype with busted signal, her fingers on the glass of my hand.
They read my name in courtrooms, push my case from shelf to shelf,
Visa forms like riddles, waiting lists that steal myself.
I kick the door, I curse the clock—this exile tastes like rust,
They tell me ‘‘patience,’’ but patience turns to iron and to dust.
[Pre-Chorus]
Paper mountains shadow all my days,
But love keeps carving out a road of flame.
[Chorus — Hook]
Waiting for Ireland's dawn — stuck till twenty twenty-seven,
Counting every midnight till I'm back where I'm meant to be.
Waiting for Ireland's dawn — heart set on that horizon,
A father's promise, louder than the miles and stamped bureaucracy.
[Verse 2 — Tender]
Their laughter hides inside my jacket, scribbles on a fridge door,
Her braid in the morning sunlight, footprints on the hallway floor.
I trace their names on tickets, memorize the way they breathe,
Play lullabies to empty rooms, tuck letters in my sleeve.
The rain on Dublin windows in my daydreams, soft and green,
I hear three little voices echo through the spaces in between.
She hums our song into the phone, a tinny hymn that keeps me whole,
I fold their bedtime drawings, press them close against my soul.
[Pre-Chorus]
Stamped papers like a drumbeat, but hope is bass and drum,
I count the days and promise — I will come.
[Chorus — Hook]
Waiting for Ireland's dawn — stuck till twenty twenty-seven,
Counting every midnight till I'm back where I'm meant to be.
Waiting for Ireland's dawn — heart set on that horizon,
A father's promise, louder than the miles and stamped bureaucracy.
[Bridge — Fracture / Turning Moment]
The line goes thin, a whisper breaks, she says “they say again, delayed.”
I hear a sob choke in the dark — a phone cut off mid-prayer.
Anger rises, fists on the table, the stamped paper tears a seam,
I scream at faceless offices until my voice is raw and mean.
Then a quiet wins me back — I promise: I will build the bridge,
Even if the law is colder, I'll find fire in every ridge.
A knock at dawn — a piece of mail, a single word: "pending",
Not a victory, but it's breathing — not the end, just bending.
[Chorus — Stronger]
Waiting for Ireland's dawn — stuck till twenty twenty-seven,
Counting every midnight, every bruise, every plea.
Waiting for Ireland's dawn — I'll carry these small victories,
A father's stubborn heartbeat pounding toward the emerald sea.
[Solo — Instrumental Break]
(Gritty guitar wail, drums like footsteps across a quay)
[Verse 3 — Resolute]
I sharpen up my patience like a blade against the night,
Keep a creased photograph beside the lamp, keep their faces in my sight.
I write my name on envelopes and paste a future on the wall,
Promise them the morning when this exile finally falls.
The calendar is boxed in red: the year they keep on of
