And Conor surrendered to the night

Arrived in Tullamore with a guitar on his back
An unknown brother
To someone a son
I try to visualize him and wonder was he cold at night
Had he fixed his eyes to the wind
And as empty houses scar this country
Conor was young and free and slept under the king tree
However Conor surrendered to the night
I try to visualize his last breath
And try to comprehend the sad circumstances of his death
Little did I know the last time we spoke
Was the last time we would ever speak
Everyone deserves respect
He arrived in Tullamore with a guitar on his back
His name was Conor O’Hagan

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