Sister Sinead

I'm singing this song for my sister, Sinead
Concerning the god-awful mess that she made
When she told them her truth just as hard as she could
Her message profoundly was misunderstood

There's humans entrusted with guarding our gold
And humans in charge of the saving of souls
And humans responded all over the world
Condemning that bald-headed brave little girl

And maybe she's crazy and maybe she ain't
But so was Picasso and so were the saints
And she's never been partial to shackles or chains
She's too old for breaking and too young to tame

It's asking for trouble to stick out your neck
In terms of a target, a big silhouette
But some candles flicker and some candles fade
And some burn as true as my sister, Sinead

And maybe she's crazy and maybe she ain't
But so was Picasso and so were the saints
And she's never been partial to shackles or chains
She's too old for breaking and too young to tame