It was a very nice day that Thursday I remember, and someone was being buried as you might expect in a graveyard because there were a lot of big black cars at Kavanagh’s pub.

It’s all like years ago, that graveyard, Glasnevin is. You can’t go in there without thinking what year it might be. Any ould year.

No year, maybe.

The Angels’ Acre is just what it says, an acre of ground given over for the burying of angels. Childer that do be dead when they come out of the mothers, and poor people’s childer that do die young.

A bit of ground with little crosses here and there, sometimes plastic flowers.

Holy ground, that’s for sure.

And the people that lost the angels do come there, and yet still and all, it’s always quiet there in my experience, and was quiet that day.

And I did weep when I saw it, of course, like I said I do weep sometimes.

Now a beautiful stone it was, just beautiful, with ‘Billy Brady’ wrote on it, and the day he was born and the day he died, just all perfect, in lovely letters. Good money paid for it, I’d say. And Joe had done that.

And the nicest thing was, he wasn’t there.

He done it as a gift to me.

Not for himself, and getting back in with me. But for me. I thought that was very – admirable.

So I wrote him a letter. I got some blue-lined paper like I used to get off a’ Patty in Lucky Duffy’s when I lived down that way. I don’t know if I mentioned Patty Duffy, but she’s the nicest woman they ever put into a shop, let me tell you. When the bombs went off in ’74, she was out helping all the dying souls, and her own head streaming with blood. I mean, I was only a chiseller at the time. I was only told she done that. But. So I got me the blue-lined paper and all, and I wrote me letter.

It was just a letter saying how happy I was Billy had his stone now, and I thanked him for the trouble he had took. And that I knew he knew it was special to me.

And then I said goodbye at the end, you know. Goodbye, sort a’.

Light on Joe.

Joe   So – I got the beautiful stone made up and I went down to collect it when I heard it was ready.

I needed something to carry it so I found this ould wheelier in me ma’s, and used that.

And I creep into Glasnevin with it, like it was a babby, you know, the stone.

And I was sort a’ reminded of something, but blow me if I knew what it was.

(Singing.) ‘The boys are back in town, the boys are back in town … ’ No.

That’s life.