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Two more.

What do you say, Charlie? Give me a hand, huh?

All right, roll it down. You got it?

Whoa, easy now.

I got it, I got it.

Roll it down.

All right. Keep it going.

As far as I'm concerned, they can take

St. Patrick's day and sell it for scrap.

Dad says it's 'cause you hate being Irish.

I love being Irish.

What I hate is the yearly display of crying, arguing

and public drunkenness that goes with it.

Centuries of loss. We're a sorrowful people.

Maybe it'll snow.

Good morning, Mr. Thompson.

Good morning to you.

Would you care to order some breakfast?

No, Martin. Thank you.

Who am I, the forgotten man?

I beg your pardon, sir.

- Would you like something? - No.

How come they ask you about breakfast and I gotta raise a stink?

I live here. It's a courtesy.

- You gotta live here to get served? - I'm a big tipper, Eli.

- Okay? - You act like it doesn't mean anything.

Because it doesn't.

The Celtic dinner... we're moving it up to 7:00.

- Why so early? - The civil war vets.

One of them snored over the Attorney General's speech last year.

You don't gotta be old for that to happen.

You think you can do better?

Actually, I was thinking about saying a few words.

- What for? - Some electioneering.

Those reformers are looking to replace me.

I dot think a speech is a good idea.

It's a captive audience of the biggest pooh-bahs in the county.

Who are there to celebrate their heritage,

not be bored by your palavering.

I've been practicing, taking lessons at the Y.M.C.A.

It's an important night, Eli.

Bad enough I have dad to look after.

I don't need you upsetting the apple cart too.

I want to say my piece.

Fine.

Daniel fucking Webster.

The widow Schroeder.

The widow Schroeder.

Mr. Thompson, good morning.

I was just on my way to your office.

Some soda bread.

I thought you might enjoy it.

It's from an old family recipe.

You can leave it with the bellhop.

He'll see that I get it.

I'm sure for your birthday you received many fine gifts...

I'm late for a meeting, Mrs. Schroeder.

But thank you.

Not a bad-looking woman.

My life's complicated enough.

Jesus, did they even wash these things from last year?

I was baby new year in '17.

Even the diaper was secondhand.

- There's blood on this. - Captain haddock's.

Some wiseacre tossed him off the boardwalk.

He landed face first on an ashcan.

Fuck this.

No more leprechauns, no more cupids,

no more goddamn elf costumes.

Kiley, green, you're up.

- What's with you? - I'm done, Carl.

We all are. No more midget shit.

Midget shit's what they're paying us for.

Not boxing. That's a show at least.

We're talking about this nonsense.

This fucking Celtic dinner... it's degrading.

Yeah, not to mention having those drunk assholes

put their filthy mitts all over you.

What am I supposed to tell Nucky?

- He's depending on us. - Yeah?

Let him wear a leprechaun getup.

- Fuck him! - Yeah.

What if I can get us a raise?

- How much? - Double.

I'll tell him we want 10 bucks a man.

I might do it for 10.

10 clams for a few hours' work?

Where's me fuckin' shillelagh?

Making a mess of this.

That's okay. I like the smell.

Oranges in the winter, huh?

- From California. - Long trip.

A couple nights in a sleeper car and then you're there,

wading up to your waist in the ocean.

I love you.

What was that?

Someone shut a door.

I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you, pearl.

- Doc says you're doing good. - Does he?

But you gotta leave it alone.

- It itches! - That's good. It means it's healing.

Did your leg itch in the hospital?

- For a while. - But not anymore?

No. Now it's hitting all six.

You're so handsome in your new suit.

Everything's gonna turn out fine.

You'll see.

How about that? As fresh as it gets.

Any more laudanum?

- What happened here? - Poof.

- Don't be stingy. - It's opium, not a milkshake.

It's like the sun just came out.

Come on, George, it's the busiest day of the year.

Eh, St. paddy's or no, with prohibition

we're in uncharted territory.

So it's dead reckoning then.

To the Irish.

They drink when they're happy.

They drink when they're sad.

I drink to forget, but I can't remember what.

Well, it ain't just the micks.

My entire ward... the speaks are packing 'em in every night.

- Everybody wants what they ain't allowed to have. - Psychology.

Whatever it is, they can't keep the booze on the shelves.

Hidden under the shelves, you mean.

- I'm gonna need to up my order. - You hearing this, Captain?

- I'm gonna need an extra boat. - Deal me in.

When do you shove off?

The stroke of midnight on the sea of green.

That from money or beer?

- How we fixed on that anyway? - Green beer?

Food coloring came today.

They're dyeing it as we speak.

Make sure that dinner's supplied.

Gonna need those poor Celts well lubricated

so they can get through Eli's re-election speech.

- What speech? - Didn't you hear?

He's Daniel Webster now.

- Yeah, you made that joke already. - It's true.

He's taking Dale Carnegie lessons.

- To the great orator. - Go on, give us a sample.

Fuck you. There's your sample.

Ah, the Irish... they're a surly lot.

- Well, give him a drink. - Some green beer.

Yeah well, in a couple of days

the town's gonna be swimming in it.

They can drown for all I care, so long as they pay.

And pay they will, Nucky, through their pug Irish noses.

? Oh, Nucky boy, the cash is coming ?

? right from their hands into your bank account. ?

None of us was so naive as to believe

that prohibition would end all drinking.

Mrs. Schroeder, how nice to see you again.

I was beginning to think you were ill.

No. Thank you for your concern. I've been working.

- Who's looking after your children? - A neighbor woman.

I've asked Betty Anne Mulhaney to share with us

an incident related to her by a relative.

Mrs. Mulhaney?

I received a letter from my cousin Martha in Nebraska.

One of her neighbors, the widow of a dairyarmer,

had fallen on hard times.

Um, ahem.

"With six children to feed, temptation got the better of her,

so she decided to mix up some gin in her bathtub

using a formula she'd gotten from a farmhand,

the idea being they'd sell it in town for a profit."

The devil's elixir.

Um, ahem.

"She mixed some water with juniper berries and denatured alcohol,

let the mixture set while she went off to fix supper.

As she did, her little one got into the alcohol,

poisoned herself dead."

Right here it's the same thing... illegal stills everywhere.

I passed by Ettinger's.

All those men at the counter drinking from coffee cups...

well, you know as well as I it's not coffee at all.

- Ettinger's isn't the only place. - There's Abe Klein's too.

It's clear the local authorities

lack the ability or the inclination to enforce the law.

And with our numbers dwindling,

we have to work even harder to capture their attention.

I heard doc Holland is writing prescriptions for whiskey.

You don't even have to be ill.

It's a disgrace is what it is.

Ladies, please, with all this clatter

I'm not hearing what we might do about it.

A rally at the parade.

Get out there marching like the old days.

Marching is all well and good,

but we need to stop the alcohol at its source.

This morning I saw barrels of beer, dozens of them,

being loaded into a garage behind my home.

This is what I'm talking about.

Perhaps Mr. Thompson could be of help.

The sheriff?

His brother, actually... Enoch.

He's a friend.

Which is to say he's been of great assistance

since my husband passed.

Well, perhaps you could arrange a meeting.

I'd be happy to try.

"Professional baseball has reached a crisis.

Charges of crookedness

relating to last year's world series are emerging

with a well-known New York gambler at its center."

It doesn't mention you by name, does it?

It does everything but.

Speculation, innuendo, and, if I remember my law school Latin,

a steaming pile of horseshit.

Is that the legal term?

You had a meeting with some washed-up ex-boxer.

- So what? - Abe Attell.

Followed by a very public dinner

with sleepy bill burns at the Astor hotel.

Is it a crime now for a fella to eat dinner?

The dinner was innocent, counselor.

But for dessert he pitched me on fixing the world series

by bribing the players on the White Sox.

A scheme which you threw cold water upon immediately.

Isn't that correct, Mr. Rothstein?

It certainly is.

Then there you have it.

And what do I do about this article?

You do nothing, Arnold.

You get mud on your trousers... or horseshit.

Or horseshit... you don't rub it off.

You let it dry. You let it set a while.

Then you brush it off nice and easy.

The world series was months ago, lawyer Fallon,

and the horseshit hasn't dried yet.

- Why are you hovering? - Carl Heeley wants a word.

Who?

What does he want?

Just a quick t�te � t�te.

How's your dad?

Will he be at the dinner this year?

- Can we just skip to the "by the way"? - Beg pardon?

Every day people come in here, Carl... dozens of them.

They ask after my health, my family, my goddamn goldfish.

Inevitably there's a "by the way."

Then they tell me what they really want.

- Well, that's not what I... - Carl, I'm busy.

You'd be doing me a huge favor.

Me and the boys want a raise to work the Celtic dinner.

Absolutely not.

Nucky, $5 a man is just not enough

for enduring that kind of humiliation.

Dancing a jig in a leprechaun outfit? You call that humiliating?

- What do you call it? - Show business.

You don't mind beating the tar out of each other every night in that ring.

But these drunks are twice our size.

They get really rough and they think it's funny.

Well, how much do you want?

$10 a man.

What's that, three bucks a foot?

It'll be a lot easier this year.

With prohibition, there'll be no booze.

Come on, Nucky. I only look like a child.

Suppose I figure out a way to give you an extra 12 bucks

and I get to save 12 myself.

- I'm listening. - There are eight leprechauns, right?

Eight times 10 is 80.

Tell your boys the best you can do was seven.

Then it'll cost me 56. I give you an extra 12.

That leaves me paying 68, which is 12 less

than the 80 you originally wanted.

- I don't know, Nucky. - Dinner starts at 7:00.

Tell your men to be dressed and ready by 6:30.

I have another meeting waiting.

Hello, ladies.

Mr. Thompson, thank you so much for seeing us.

Not at all.

- Did you enjoy the soda bread? - Pardon?

Oh! Yes, very much. Thank you.

May I offer you something?

Thank you, no.

Mrs. Schroeder has seen something

she feels compelled to tell you about.

Oh?

Yesterday morning an entire truckload of beer barrels

was loaded into a garage behind my home.

A man who looked familiar... but I couldn't really place him...

was supervising the delivery.

Why, that's outrageous.

I saw it with my own eyes.

- I'm sure you must have been appalled. - I was, quite.

I'm afraid my birthday party

must have been quite difficult for you...

at Babette's, the nightclub.

I was making a delivery for the dress shop.

It was quite a celebratory atmosphere.

Some champagne and whiskey may have even been drunk.

I'm sure your class of acquaintance drinks only in moderation.

If they drink at all.

Mrs. Schroeder, thank you for sharing this information.

Eddie, get the sheriff on the phone.

You give the details to my brother

and we'll shut down that garage before the tide goes out.

Mr. Thompson, we are grateful as always.

I truly do appreciate it.

This isn't a personal favor, Mrs. Schroeder.

Yes, I realize that.

- Mm-mm. - Come on, eat a little.

- Mm! - You can't live on laudanum.

Watch me.

- Hey, Johnny. - Hey, hon.

How you feeling?

Swell.

Jesus Christ! She's fuckin' ruined.

Come on, it's not that bad.

If she was a filly, they'd shoot her.

I know you took a shine to her, but she gotta go.

She hasn't even had her stitches out.

This is a cathouse, not the hotel Sherman.

She don't earn, I don't earn.

- What if cover it? - 100 a day?

- She makes that much? - She did.

She got till Friday.

So what did he want?

Nothing.

Scalcione's out sick.

He wants me to work the door.

I'll take the soup now.

Come on, bring it back, bring it back.

A little more, a little more.

All right, good. Stop stop!

Go ahead.

Whoa whoa, easy! It's gonna fall on me.

I got it, I got it.

All right, let's start unloading. Come on, guys.

- All right, one at a time. - All right, coming down, coming down.

Come on, don't get ahead of yourselves.

Good good. Ma'am.

What are you doing?

We're unloading this truck.

Unloading it?

We gotta tint it green by tomorrow for St. paddy's.

Who is in charge here?

Boss?

Well.

- Mrs. Schroeder, right? - Mr. Neary.

Like a soft night in Wicklow, isn't it?

I couldn't say. I'm from Kerry.

Ah, the lofty peak of carrauntoohil.

Did Mr. Thompson not speak with you today?

- About what? - Your business here.

We'll be out of your hair by tomorrow.

Most of this stuff is for the Celtic dinner.

Listen, fellas, you've gotta keep it down.

People are trying to sleep here.

What say we pour you off a growler for St. Paddy's, hmm?

Compliments of the city?

? I'm writing you, dear, just to tell you ?

? in September you remember ?

? beneath the old apple tree you whispered to me ?

? when it blossomed again you'd be mine ?

? I waited until I could claim you ?

? I hope I've not waited in vain ?

? for when it's spring in the valley ?

? I'm coming, my sweetheart, again ?

? I'll be with you... ?

Neary, my boy! Nice of you to join us.

? I'll be with you to change your name to mine ?

? for one day in may I'll come and say ?

? happy the bride... ?

I am terribly sorry.

Mr. Thompson is not available.

He knows I've been waiting.

He has some urgent business.

? You will be mine ?

? in apple blossom time. ?

101 arctic: 23 cases of bourbon, eight cases rye.

316 Adriatic: 15 cases blended scotch whiskey.

90 Baltic: 11 cases gin.

- Mrs. Schroeder. - Good afternoon.

- I'm intruding. - You are not.

This is my colleague Agent Sebso.

- Margaret Schroeder. - Ma'am.

Eh.

Is the post office in charge of prohibition?

No, ma'am.

You said I should come to you if I had information.

Roll down your sleeves. Put on your jacket.

Bring Mrs. Schroeder a chair.

Go outside and block the entrance.

On the street behind my home is a garage.

Yes?

It's full of beer barrels.

How many?

Quite a large quantity.

Could you give me an estimate?

93?

What's the address?

2727 Caspian.

The Hiiawatha garage.

Right out in the open.

You will close it down, won't you?

When would you like me to do that?

Immediately. Children can see it.

There are now 117 pins here.

Each one marks a location in this city where alcohol

is being warehoused, distilled, or sold.

They operate with impunity and I do not possess

the resources to shut even 10% of them.

I understand.

Then you'll also understand that every one of these pins

taken together amounts to nothing.

Here on the south shore of brigantine

and here in the back bays of the inlet,

boats unload liquor sailed down from Canada,

up from the Caribbean, across the Atlantic.

It is watered down, mixed with poisons,

and sold illicitly by a growing class of criminals

for whom murder is a means of doing business.

Some of the victims are no better than killers themselves.

Others are just unlucky.

They are shopkeepers, schoolteachers.

One was a baker's apprentice.

Do you mean to be cruel, Mr. van Alden?

No, ma'am. I mean to be honest.

And what of the law that creates the criminal?

That's the law you've just asked me to enforce

for the safety of your children,

unless I misread your intentions.

I've been lectured to a great deal today

by men who speak boldly and do nothing.

- I'd like to leave now. - Who else lectured you?

Why should that be your concern?

Because you don't want to tell me.

Will you arrest me in the post office?

Not unless you've committed a crime.

Mr. Neary.

Mr. Neary lectured you?

Mr. Neary owns the garage.

James Neary, the alderman from the fourth ward?

I don't know his first name.

What do you know about him?

He works for Mr. Thompson.

Now they're frisking people?

After they already shot up the joint?

Better late than never.

It's like the horse after the barn door in here.

- After the horse. - What?

You close the barn door after the horses are gone.

- That's the expression. - That's what I said.

No, you said... look, it doesn't matter.

Fuck the horse.

Torrio don't like headaches.

I think he's already got one.

Those mick bastards... we should hit 'em tomorrow.

And they'll be soused off their asses for St. paddy's.

Is that what Torrio wants?

You start worrying about what other people want,

you'll go batty.

- What happened to her? - Hi, boys.

Who wants to buy me a drink?

Pearl, what are you doing?

I'm working.

I gotta earn my keep.

You don't have to work today, honey.

Go on, get her outta here.

Come on, let's go upstairs.

I need more juice.

I'm gonna make you some right now, okay?

What's so funny?

Nothing. Someone told a joke.

Jimmy?

What, sweetie? What what?

Who's gonna love me now?

Relax, dear.

It's the best thing when they're overtired.

You should have asked me.

When James was that age he used work himself

into such an impossible state.

Whiskey and milk were a godsend.

Do you think she's attractive?

I don't have much time for movies right now.

I remember how that was.

Of course I used to have the girls around to help babysit.

Jimmy never wanted for feminine attention.

I have to meet my friend. She's waiting.

Well, see a movie, dear.

We're going to take some air on the boardwalk.

The night before St. Patrick's?

There tends to be a lower element abroad.

We'll be very careful.

I'm sure you will be.

You could be free, you know.

Beg pardon?

You're an attractive girl

with artistic leanings... the painting and all... ardon?

Waiting for a man you're not married to, who may never return.

I have a child.

I'll raise him.

What?

You go off, have your youthful adventures and I'll raise Tommy.

You'll raise my son?

Well, think about it.

Talk it over with your friend.

I don't need to think about it.

What kind of thing is that to say?

I didn't mean to offend you.

I just assumed that you'd be open

to a different sort of arrangement, bohemian that you are.

Well, I'm not open to it at all.

Well, the more fool I.

No need to keep your friend waiting.

? I wish I was ?

? in carrickfergus ?

? only for nights ?

? in ballygrant ?

? I would swim over ?

? the deepest ocean ?

? the deepest ocean ?

? for my love to find ?

? but the sea is wide ?

? and I cannot swim over... ?

- Where's your brother? - I don't know.

- What? - Dad, "carrickfergus."

Oh, what do I give a shit?

? I wings to fly ?

? if I could find me ?

? a handsome boatman... ?

where the hell were you?

The boys were using my sash to play Tarzan.

Where were you?

Every year with this.

? for I'm drunk today ?

? and I'm seldom sober ?

? a handsome rover ?

? from town to town ?

? oh, but I'm sick now ?

? my days are numbered ?

? so come all ye young men ?

? and lay me down. ?

Duncan O'Conner, everybody!

Bravo!

Thank you, Mayor Bacharach.

God bless America and God bless the emerald isle.

Fellow members of the ancient order of the Celts,

welcome one and all to our annual St. Patrick's Eve dinner.

As is our custom, I'd like to turn over the festivities

to Atlantic county's esteemed treasurer,

that proud Irishman, Enoch Thompson.

When do I get to talk?

They're here to enjoy themselves.

Is it really necessary?

- Hear hear, Nucky! - Good evening, gentlemen.

This being an election year, with your kind indulgence,

sheriff Eli Thompson has asked to say a few words before we get started.

So this one's gonna talk now?

Thank you, Enoch, Mr. Mayor.

Have a drink.

Your hands are shaking.

- Friends, romans... ...And Irishmen... - Lend me your beers!

...Tomorrow we will celebrate our patron Saint,

the beloved St. Patrick,

he what drove the snakes out of Ireland.

- That's right! - Hear hear!

Today I submit for your approval

that he should have drove the English out.

Yeah!

My friends, it wasn't a famine of nature

that killed our forefathers.

It was a famine by Cromwell.

- Here here! - That's right!

And now in our own time the murdering Brits are at it again,

slaughtering the heroes of the Easter rebellion in Kilmainham gaol...

- Pearse and McDonagh... - That's right!

Eamonn Ceannt and Jonah Clarke.

- Thomas, you idiot. - What's he know? He was born in the states.

Of course. Yes, Thomas.

You speculating that those of us born here

are less committed to the troubles back home?

I'm saying I've seen things with me own eyes in Dublin.

By what right do the English

suppress our brothers across the ocean?

My district alone raised over $2,000 for the fight.

I held a fuckin' line against the Brits with nothin' more than a fire poker.

- It's my sons who are fighting and dying. - With arms we provided.

- Up the rebels! - Up your asses!

By no right at all, gentlemen...

You're gonna have a fucking riot on your hands.

-...Our brothers across the country... - Say that again!

Gentlemen, we here in the United States, we...

sheriff Eli Thompson, everybody.

You remember that.

So sit down!

What do you call an Irishman who doesn't swear?

A mute.

What do you call an Irishman who doesn't drink?

A corpse.

What do you call an Irishman from Atlantic City?

It doesn't matter where he's from; You call him an Irishman!

Erin go bragh!

Now let me hear those pipes.

The little people... they've been to the end of the rainbow

and they're here with the pots of gold.

Whoo!

Hey, where's the green beer?

Not this year, assemblyman.

But it's a goddamn tradition.

The feds found our stash.

You gotta go easy on this stuff, okay?

- Bad girl. - Not bad, just go easy.

We should go down to Chinatown for a bowl.

What did I just say?

But it's so much better when you smoke it.

- Palm trees and sunshine. - We'll do that, I promise.

Tell me a story.

- About what? - You.

Something happy.

Uh... okay.

Well, I was... what, seven?

- What'd you look like? - Like I do now...

smaller, hair down to here.

- No. - Yeah.

My mother thought it looked aristocratic.

Everyone else just thought I was a girl.

Anyway, there was this man... Mr. Lancaster.

He was a worth a few dollars,

so my mother figured she could get him to marry her.

He had a sailboat.

Make it a yacht.

Sure, a yacht.

On the 4th of July he took us boating, my mother and me.

She was in a white tea dress and a merry widow hat.

- Mm, she was beautiful. - She was. She still is.

We sailed past the lighthouse up along to brigantine

where the pirates used to hide.

Mr. Lancaster showed me how to use the mainsheet,

put me at the tiller.

I steered us into little egg inlet

like I'd done it my whole life.

We tied up at egg island.

We went ashore.

My mother told me to go away for a while.

I was used to that.

So I ran around, pretending to be a pirate.

And when it was okay to come back,

Mr. Lancaster dug a pit in the sand,

loaded in some coals to roast the lobster

and the corn he had brought, and we just ate like kings.

When the sun began to set,

Mr. Lancaster told me to go get this box from the boat.

"And be very careful."

Inside was stars and stripes

he said that his father had carried at Gettysburg,

which had to be true 'cause there were bullet holes on it.

So we stuck the flagpole in the grass and we sang...

? My country, 'tis of thee... ?

...With our hands on our hearts.

And we watched the fireworks go off

all the way down the boardwalk.

We sailed home under the moon.

My mother was combing the sand out of my hair.

That was a good day.

Tell me he married her.

Sure, he did.

Happily ever after.

Shit! God damn it.

Somebody's gonna really have to take care of you.

I should wash this.

Kiss me.

Get yourself cleaned up, lover.

Thank you.

It's great to see you again.

There's a time and place, Eli.

You have to know your audience.

Give 'em what they want, huh, Nuck?

Well, isn't that what your book says?

The Dale Carnegie?

- Why don't you take a break? - Why?

Because I'm trying to help you and you're drunk.

And you're not?

Oh that's right...

This is the one night of the year you don't drink.

These men, Eli... these kingmakers you wanted to impress?

You may not think so, but they're judging you every second.

And when something good comes along, an opportunity,

they remember the man who showed good form.

The whole thing's a game, isn't it?

It's so easy for you.

Well, I'll keep at it.

Maybe one day I'll lie as good as you.

It's lie as well as me, you dolt.

You want to be taken seriously, then learn how to fuckin' speak.

So the leprechaun looks up at the blonde

and says, "it may be yellow, lady,

but it's sure no pot of gold."

Nobody move!

United States bureau of internal revenue.

- This is a private party! - This is a raid.

- What the hell is this now? - Easy, dad.

Do you have any idea who these men are?

This is a private party

and the mere consumption of alcohol is not illegal.

Now I'm an attorney, and the Volstead act clearly...

would anyone else care to interfere

with the court-appointed duties of a federal Agent?

Stand down.

Anybody tries to make a run for it, shoot them.

I have an arrest warrant.

James Neary of 1222 Chelsea Avenue, Atlantic City, New Jersey?

You are Mr. James Neary?

Yeah.

I have witness testimony that you knowingly and willingly

stored and transported intoxicating liquors...

a direct violation of the Volstead act.

- No, I don't know what your... - Stand up!

You're under arrest.

This assembly is over.

This establishment will be shuttered.

Gather your belongings and disperse in an orderly fashion.

Mr. Neary, how much liquor?

Is there anything you want to say?

- Just one more picture. - Was he selling alcohol?

- Who else is in there? - How many are being arrested?

Any comment, Mr. Ward Boss?

? All ye who love your country ?

? against the drink should stand ?

? behold against this traffic ?

? your country's greatest foe... ?

you gonna do something about this, sheriff?

? Let word and deed and ballot ?

? proclaim that drink must go. ?

? stand up for prohibition ?

? ye patriots of the land... ?

- Let's go! - ? All ye who love your country... ?

- go home to your families! - Bugger off, you harridans!

Disperse, all of you.

? Behold against this traffic ?

? your country's greatest foe... ?

- lock it up. - Move along.

? A ballot ?

? proclaim that drink must go ?

? stand up for prohibition ?

? ye soldiers of the lord ?

? put on the gospel armor... ?

great night for the Irish, Big Brother.

I'm sure you made quite an impression

with your republican friends.

Go home to your wife, Eli.

I will.

Where are you going?

What the fuck was that for?

? I wish I was ?

? in carrickfergus ?

? only for nights ?

? nights in ballygrant ?

? I would swim over ?

? the deepest ocean ?

? the deepest ocean ?

? for my love to find ?

? but the sea is wide... ?

? And I can't swim over ?

? neither have ?

? I wings to fly ?

? if I could find me ?

? a handsome boatman ?

? to ferry me over ?

? over to my love and die ?

? my childhood days ?

? bring back sad reflections ?

? of happy times ?

? spent so long ago ?

? my boyhood friends... ?

? And my own relations... ?

? Have all passed on now ?

? like the melting snow... ?

- who is it? - Nucky Thompson.

Mr. Thompson?

Is there something you wanted?

I've no time for games, Margaret... no interest in them.

Margaret?

Sub by honeybunny, Sync by okidna www.addic7ed.com

? But I'll spend my days ?

? in endless roaming ?

? soft is the grass ?

? my bed is free ?

? ah, to be back now ?

? in carrickfergus ?

? on that long road ?

? down to the salty sea ?

? and in Kilkenny ?

? there it is reported ?

? there are marble stones there ?

? as black as any ink ?

? with gold and silver ?

? I would support her ?

? but I'll sing no more now ?