Share 'PEADER’S BAR.'

Watching the tides of time through glass of foaming ebbs and highs. A black subtle sea of a palate’s delight coloured by aged hangings and pouring of smoke in a bar with Peadar’s name. You are not from this Town are yae son? Says he. Go on do you not see me, not know who I am. Naw son, don’t think I do, where’s that accent from. It’s from the ‘Town’ same as you. Get away with you, from the…