Lyrics

     Skibereen                                                              

O father dear I oft times hear you talk of Erin`s isle/ her lofty scenes and valleys green, her mountains rude and wild/ they say it is a lovely land wherein a prince might dwell/ Oh why did you abandon it, the reason to me tell.

Dear son, I loved my native home with energy and pride/`til a blight came over all my crops,my sheep and cattle died/ my rent and taxes were too high, I could not them redeem/ and that`s the only reason why I left old Skibereen.

It`s well I do remember that bleak December day/when the landlord and his sheriff came to drive us all away/they set our house on fire with their cruel foreign spleen/and that`s another reason why I left old Skibereen.

Your mother too, God rest her soul, fell on the snowy ground/she fainted in her anguish from the desolation round/she never rose but passed away from life to mortal dream/and that`s another reason why I left old Skibereen.

For you were only two years old and feeble was your frame/I could not leave you with my friends, you bore your father`s name/I wrapped you in my cóta mór at the dead of night unseen/ I heaved a sigh and bade goodbye to dear old Skibereen.

Oh father dear, the day will come when in answer to the call/ Irishmen both brave and bold will rally one and all/ I`d be that man to lead the band beneath that flag of green/  And loud and high, we`d raise a cry/ revenge for Skibereen. (seánsongs)

Dear Little Isle

There`s a dear little isle in the western ocean/ An island of purity, holy and grand/ Its name fills its daughters and sons with emotion/When it`s heard on the shores of a far-off distant land.

Sure it`s Ireland God Bless her, the birthplace of heroes/the home of the patriot, warrior and sage/of bards and of chieftains whose names live in stories/ may they live forever on history`s page.

Chorus: Sure I love every blade of grass green on your mountains/every leaf on your trees/every rock on your strands/I love your green hills and your murmuring fountains/ I love you, a chuisle, my own dear native land.

You once were a proud and a glorious nation/your name and your fame was known all oèr the world/Till misfortune came oèr you and sad desolation/And the emerald banner in slavery lay unfurled.  Chorus

They tortured your children, despised your green bowers/They tried to exterminate us long,long ago/ But the Irish are somehow like wild creeping flowers/The quicker that you pluck them, the quicker they seem to grow. Chorus (seánsongs)

Banks of the Lee

When two lovers meet down beside the green bower/When two lovers meet down beneath the green tree/When Mary, fond Mary declared to her lover/You have stolen my poor heart from the Banks of the Lee.

Chorus: I loved her very dearly, so truly and sincerely/There is no-one in this wide world I loved better than she/Every bush and every bower, every blooming Irish flower/Reminds me of my Mary on the Banks of the Lee.

Don`t stay out too late love, on the moorlands my mary/Don`t stay out too late love, on the moorlands from me/How little was our notion when we parted by the ocean/That we were parting forever from the Banks of the Lee. Chorus

I will pluck her some roses, some blooming Irish roses/I will pluck her some roses, the finest that ever grew/And I`ll  leave them on the grave of my own true lovely Mary/In that cold and silent churchyard where she sleeps neath the dew. Chorus (seánsongs)

The Close of an Irish Day

Oh tonight in fancy, come and take a trip across the Irish Sea/And meet our old companions in the place we long to be/For stamped upon our memories are the friends we used to know/So just tonight we`ll revel in the thoughts of long ago.

Through little lanes and meadows we will take a stroll once more/And meet the happy boys and girls we met in days of yore/The little bridge by moonlight has the same old charm still/As the whistler on a summer`s eve comes rambling oèr the hill.

And it`s oft we rove though yon green grove with our young hearts light and gay/In the golden rays of the setting sun at teh close of an Irish day/The music from the hills around re-echoed clear and true/As down the path we wandered `neath the fragrance and the dew.

Don`t you recall, sweetheart of mine, the place where I met you/Like a rosy ball of happiness where love`s young dream came true/The air was full of love`s sweet song as I promised to be thine/And you forever pledged your word that you`d be always mine.

I`ll neèr forget when I set sail across the ocean blue/We stood on deck and watched the mountains slowly fade from view/At teh glimpse of old Ireland sure our hearts went up in prayer/ Oh God forbid we`ll eèr forget our dear little isle so fair. (seansongs)

Once I Loved

Once I loved with fond affection/one whose thoughts were dear to me/`til there came a dreary parting/never more will she speak to me.

Chorus: Go and leave me if you wish to/never let me cross your mind/if you think I proved unworthy/ go and leave me, I don`t mind.

Many`s the night love, as you lay sleeping/ dreaming in some sweet repose/while I, a poor lad`s left broken-hearted/listening to the wind that blows. Now you`ve gone and loved another/ one who has more gold and store/whilst I, a young lad, does lie a-weeping/left alone because I`m poor.Chorus

 Here`s the ring that once you gave me/when our hearts they did entwine/now give it to that dark-haired laddie/he`ll never know that it once was mine. Farewell to friends and kind relations/farewell to you, my false young girl/it`s you has caused such pain and sorrow/ that never will I return again. Chorus. (Portrait2)

Meeting is a Pleasure

Oh, meeting is a pleasure between my love and I/and its down in yonder valley I would meet her by and by/it`s down in yonder valley, there lives my heart`s delight/and it`s with you lovely Molly I would stay till the broad daylight.

While going to mass on Sunday/my true love she passed me by/and I knew her mind had altered by the roving of her eye/I knew her mind had altered on a  lad of high degree/so it`s farewell lovely Molly, your thoughts have wounded me.

I stepped up to my own true love with a bottle in my hand/saying `take you, lovely Molly, for our courtship is at an end/Sayin `drink you off the top, leave the bottom unto me`/for there`s money made and wagers laid that it`s married we neèr shall be.

And never marry a fair young maid with a blue and roving eye/ just take her in your arms and don`t tell her the reason why/ just take her in your arms till you feel her heart to yield/for a faint-hearted soldier will never gain the field.

So farewell Ballymoney, likewise the sweet Bann shore/ fare thee well to McCuskey Braes, that place I shall neèr see more/ for Americay lies far away, it`s a place I would soon to see/ and a curse upon the Kerryman who has parted my love from me. ( All Heart, No Roses n/a)

Stór Mo Chroí

A stór mo chroí, in the stranger`s land, there is plenty of wealth and wailing/ where gems adorn the great and the grand, there are faces with hunger paling/ when the road is tiresome and hard to tread, and the lights of their cities blind you/ O, turn , a stór, to Erin`s shore and the one that you leave behind you.

A stór mo chroí, when the evening mist over mountain and sea is falling/ O, yurn a stór and then you`ll list, and maybe you will hear me calling/ for the sound of a voice you will surely miss, somebody speedily returning/ A rún, a rún, won`t you come back soon to the one that will always love you. ( A Portrait)

Inishcara

I have rambled in exile `mid cruel-hearted strangers/ far from my love and the beautiful Lee/I have struggled alone through all hardship and danger/ and braved every fate on the land and the sea/ From Colombia`s wild forests to India`s spiced bowers/on the great foreign rivers whose sands are of gold/I have sighed for thee still `mid the birds and the flowers/ I love you, and will `till my heart does grow cold.

I roved with fair maidens with dark flowing tresses/ and beautiful eyes have looked kindly on me/but I thought with regret of the smiles and caresses/ of that fair-haired young maiden that dwelt by the Lee./And now, I`ve returned but she`s not in her bower/where the river flows past with its small tiny waves/ I have called her in vain, for the ivory-crowned tower/of sweet Inishcara oèrshadows her grave.

The home of my childhood, to ruin it is falling/and the loved ones that blessed it will greet me no more/But I look on it still, joyous visions recalling/though the tall grass has grown on the step of the door./ I would rest with thee soon with the shamrock above me/ from  my own native Cork, no more shall I roam/ `till I`m laid in the grave with the dear ones that love me/ as in death they will welcome their wanderer home. ( All Heart, No Roses)

May Morning Dew

How pleasant in winter to sit by the hob/listening to the howls and the barks of a dog/ or in summer to wander the wide valleys through/and to pick the wild flowers in the May morning dew.

Summer is coming, oh, summer is here/ with the leaves on the trees and the sky blue and clear/and the birds they are singing their fond note so true/ and the flowers, they are springing in the May morning dew.

The home I was raised in is but a stone on a stone/ and all round the garden, the weeds they have grown/ and all the kind neighbours that ever I knew/ like the red rose, they`ve withered in the May morning dew.

God be with the old folks who are now dead and gone/ and likewise my brothers, young Dennis and John/ as they tripped throught the heather, the wild hare to pursue/ with their joys they are mingled in the May morning dew. (Portrait)

Bundleen

My name is Willie Reilly, in Dublin I was born/ and for my bad behaviour I was forced across the foam/ with me bundleen on my shoulder, my shillelagh in my hand/ for to ramble in the bushes of Australia like a true-born irishman.

The wind being in our favour, we raised our sails with glee/and we gave three hearty cheers, me boys, going down the Irish sea/ we gave three hearty cheers, me boys, going down the Irish sea/ and on the eleventh day of April we landed in Port Magee/ With me bundleen on my shoulder, my shillelagh in my hand/for to ramble the bushed of Australia like a true-born Irishman.

And when we reached old Melbourne, the ladies danced with joy/says one of them to the other `here comes that Irish boy`/ And some, they drank from glasses and some they drank from cans/and we sang and danced all around the house to the health of this Irishman/ with me bundleen on my shoulder, my shillelagh in my hand/for to ramble the bushes of Australia like a true-born Irishman.

Says the mother to her daughter, Ì cannot understand/why you`re going to wed this Irish boy all the way from paddy`s land`/ says the daughter to her mother `sure I`ll do  the best I can/since I`ll ramble the bushes of Australia with my true-born Irishman/ with me bundleen on my shoulder/ my shillelagh in my hand/for to ramble the bushes of Australia/like a true-born  Irishman. (Portrait)

Home Away From Home

I didn`t sleep at all last night, I stayed up till the dawn/banging out the jigs and reels till eveeryone had gone/Singin`some old shut-eye songs I hadn`t sung for years/Knockin`back the brandy and the beers. Chorus: Back across the ocean to my home away from home/I`m glad to be returning but sad to have to go/I`d like to find a way to be two places at one time/for it`s easy goin`back again, but hard to say `goodbye`.

I had one bag too many just as I was set to leave/I was loaded down with bacon and with sausages and tea/ and I couldn`t find my ticket as I`m walking out the door/ `till I empty all my bags out on the floor. Chorus

On board the plane, I sipped a drink while waiting for the meal/just trying not to let my head know how my stomach feels/ there`s a baby right behind me making sure that I don`t sleep/ and the flight`s too full to find another seat. Chorus

I fell asleep at last just as the plane was touching down/ and I aged ten years while waiting for the bags to come around/And I make it home at alst and I`m barely home when/I`m already making plans to go again. Chorus ( Portrait/ The Irish Scattering)

Isle of Hope, Isle of Tears

On the first day of January, eighteen ninety two/ they opened Ellis island and they let the people through/ And the first to cross the threshold of that isle of hope and tears/was Annie Moore from Ireland who was all of fifteen years. Chorus: Isle of Hope, Isle of Tears, Isle of Freedom, Isle of Fears/ But it`s not the isle you left behind/ that Isle of Hunger, Isle of Pain, isle you`ll never see again/ but the Isle of Home is always on your mind.

In her little bag she carried all her past and history/ and her dreams for the future in the land of liberty/ and courage is the passport when your old world disappears/ Cos there`s no future in the past when you`re fifteen years. Chorus

When they closed down Ellis Island in nineteen forty-three/ seventeen million people had come there for sanctuary/ and in springtime when I came here and I stepped on to its piers/I thought of how it must have been when you`re fifteen years. Chorus. ( Portarit/ The Irish Scattering)

Home

The only thing I see ahead is just the heat rising off the road/the rainbows I keep chasing keep on fading before I find my crock of gold/ and more and more I`m thinkiing that the only treasure that I`ll ever find/is long ago and far behind and wrapped up in my memories of home.

Chorus: Home was a swimming hole and a fishing pole and the feel of the muddy road between my toes/home was a back-porch swing where I would sit while Mama sang `Amazing Grace`as she hung out the clothes/ home was an easy chair with my daddy there and the smell of Sunday supper on the stove/ My footsteps carry me away but in my mind, I`m always going home.

The miles that lay behind me were`nt as bad as the miles that lay ahead/ and it`s too late to listen to the words of wisdom that my daddy said/and the straight and narrow path he showed me tunred in to a thousand winding roads/My footsteps carry me away but in my mind, I`m always going home. Chorus. ( Portrait )

Man From Connemara

He lived his life among the stones/the ocean thundered in his bones/his heart was tempered by its drone/The man from  Connemara. He always stood out from the crowd/ this noble horse both strong and proud/he liked to speak his thoughts out loud/ the man from Connemara.

When he was young, he took a mind/ to leave his native home behind/meet any challenge he would find/ the man from Connemara.  He spent his youth among the stones/the ocean thundered in his bones/ his heart was tempered by its drone/ the man from Connemara.

He carved his place in foreign lands/and forged a new life with his hands/and by his word he`d always stand/ the man from Connemara. His life was written in his songs/ his melodies were old and strong/ they`d hit you hard and linger long/ the man from Connemara.  (Portrait)

Galway to Graceland

Oh, she dressed in the dark and she whispered Àmen`/ she was pretty and pink like a young girl again/ twenty years married and she never thought twice/ she sneaked out the door and walked in to the night/ And silver wings carried her over the sea/from the west coast of Ireland to west Tennessee/ to be with her sweetheart, she left everything/ from Galway to Graceland to be with the King.

She was humming ` Suspicion`, that`s the song she liked best/ she had `Elvis, I love you `tattoed on her breast/ When she landed in Memphis, well her heart beat so fast/ she`d dreamed for so long, now she`s see him at last./She was down by his graveside day after day/come closing time, they would pull her away/ To be with her sweetheart, she left everything/ from Galway to Graceland to be with the King.

Oh, they came in their thousands from the whole human race/ to pay their respects at his last resting place/ and blindly she knelt there and she told him her dreams/ and she thought that he answered, well that`s how it seems./ And they dragged her away, it was handcuffs this time/She said `My good man, are you out of your mind? / `Don`t you know we are married, see, I`m wearing his ring`/ `I`ve come from Galway to Graceland to be with the King`. (Portrait)

Age of Uncertainty

I still can hear the master say `Sing it, two and two are four`/ walking up and walking down and walking round the floor/ And that was in the good old days when poetry it rhymed/ And we couldn`t wait for three o`clock and the freedom bells to chime. Chorus: In the age of uncertainty, freedom doesn`t feel so free/ feeling doesn`t feel the same when I think of you and me again.

And someone surely somewhere somehow can recall atime/ we didn`t have to lock our doors to strangers in the night-time/ for we were neighbours`children and dancers danced in time/ and we couldn`t wait for twelve o`clock and our parents to say `goodnight`. Chorus

There was comfort in the garden in the apple-blossom time/ the Golden Book was black and white and it kept us all in line/ But when the walls come tumbling down like castles made of sand/ it`s time that we were going back to where it all began. Chorus   (Turn A Phrase n/a/ Portrait 2)

Tunnel Tigers

Hares run free on the Wicklow mountains/Wild geese fly and the foxes play/Courting Wicklow boys are working/ Driving a tunnel through the London clay. Chorus: Up with the shield. jack it, ram it/  Drive a tunnel through the London clay.

Lough Derg trout grow fat and lazy/Salmon sport in Cushla Bay/ the fish are in off Connemara/ Drive a tunnel through the London clay. Chorus

The curraghs rot on Achill Island/ Tourists walk on the Newport Quay/ The Mayo boys are all gone roving/ Digging a tunnel through the London clay. Chorus

Below Armagh the wild duck`s breeding/Wild fowl gather on Lough Ree/ The sporting boys of Longford County/ Are igging a tunnel through the London clay. Chorus

The Carlow girls are fine and handsome/ All decked out so neat and gay/ The Carlow boys don`t come to court them/ They`re driving a tunnel through the London clay. Chorus.

Down in the dark are the Tunnel Tigers/ Far from the sun and the light of day/ Down in the land the sea once buried/ Driving a tunnel through the London clay. Chorus. (Portrait 2)

Green Among the Gold

Dusty plains and iron chains mer Erin`s sons and daughters/Cast upon a barren land, a far-off distant shore/ They dreamed of misty mountains and their homes across the water/ They sang of Connemara and the home they`d see no more/ Now limestone walls are all that`s left of times of pain and failure/ This country yields the secrets of the beauty that it holds/ And the tunes of Erin`s Isle are now the music of Australia/ For Irish hands have woven strands of Green among the Gold.

Chorus: Aand so beneath the Southern Cross they sang their songs of ireland/ They sent their sons and daughters there in the hungry days of old/ They play their jigs and reels beneath the skies of their new homeland/ For Irish hands have woven strands of green among the Gold.

Nowadays when times are hard at home, some people take a notion/ To start a brand-new life on the far side of the globe/ And now they find their hearts are stranded somewhere in mid-ocean/ Though their days are full of sunshine and their future`s full of hope. Chorus

Their children sing of a broken life of shearers and bush rangers/ They learn to play our music and to dance the steps of old/ Though their hearts are in Australia, they never will be strangers/ To the land they left behind them, they`re the Green among the Gold. Chorus.  ( Turn A Phrase n/a)

Writing on the Wall.

I`ve broken all your bones, and promises I gave/ Sat upon some throne, like the one who owned a slave/ And I never had the guts to turn to you at all/ And I constantly ignored the writing on the wall.

I`ve listened to your dreams with one ear on the shelf/ Fed you reams and reams of stuff about myself/ And I ploughed on like the blind, regardless of a fall/ Because I could`nt see the writing on the wall.

And when the hammer fell, it was like a mortal blow/And I turned around to see someone I didn`t know/ And I thought I knew you well, oh, I thought I knew it all/ But I never thought I`d see the writing on the wall.

We hurt the ones we love to see how they might bend/Push our luck so far that we break them in the end/ And the day that we wake up, they`ve gone beyond recall/ Because we couldn`t see the writing on the wall.   (Portrait)

Music of Healing

Don`t beat the drum, that frightens the children/ Don`t sing the songs about winning and losing/ Sit down beside me, the green fields are bleeding/ Sing me the music of healing./ Sing a song of a lover returning/ the darker the night, the nearer the morning/ Bring me the news of a new day that`s dawning/ Sing me the music of healing.

Chorus: Ah, the heart`s a wonder/ stronger than the guns of thunder/Even when we`re torn asunder/ Love will come again.

Sometimes the truth`s like a hare in the cornfield/ You know that it`s there but you can`t put your arms round it/All you can hope for is to follow its footprints/ Sing me the music of healing./Who would have thought I could feel so contented/ To learn I was wrong after all of my rambles/ I`ve learned to be hard and I`ve learned to be humble/ Sing me the music of healing. Chorus.

Somehow the cycle of vengeance keeps turning/ `Till each others`sorrows and songs we start learning/ Peace is the prize for those who are daring/ Sing me the music of healing./ Time is your friend, it cures all your sorrows/ But how can I wait for another tomorrow/One step today and a thousand will follow/ Sing me the music of healing. Chorus           (Turn a Phrase  n/a)

O Siyeza (The Crossing)

Through all the days that eat away/ at every breath that I take/Through all the nights I`ve lain alone/ in someone else`s dream, awake/ All the words in truth we have spoken/ that the wind has blown away/It`s only you that remains with me/ Clear as the light of day.

Chorus: O Siyeza, O Siyeza, sizofika webaba noma/ o siyeza, o siyeza, siyagudle lomhlaba/ siyawela, lapheshaya, lulezontaba ezimnyama/ lapha sobheka phansi konke ukhulupheka. (We are coming, we are coming, we will arrive soon/ we are coming we are coming, we are moving across this earth/ we are crossiing over these dark mountains/ where we will lay down our troubles)

A punch-drunk man in a downtown bar/ tkaes a beating without making a sound/ through swollen eyes, he sways and smiles/ `cause no-one can put him down./ Inside him a boy looks up to his father/ for a sign or an approving eye/ Oh, it`s funny how those once so close and now gone/ can still so affect our lives. Chorus

Take me now, hold me close/ Don`t let go, I`m coming home. Chorus  ( seánsongs/ The Irish Scattering)

The Pleasure Will Be Mine.

Chorus: `If you come with me to Ventry`, Willie said to Caroline/ `I will have a happy heart`- `The Pleasure will be mine`she said/ The pleasure will be mine.

The rain was falling down so hard, the drains were overflowing/You`d almost think the Flood was coming on/So they huddled in a corner trying to keep out all the water/ And he told her of the things he had in mind. Chorus

The paper says the workforce will be laid off after Christmas/ There`s a downturn in the business, so they say/ I`ll not sit about here waiting on some company decision/ So on Friday, I`ll be lifting my last pay.  Chorus

We can pack our bags and leave thisplace/ And take the road to Ventry/ For the country air`s sweet as good red wine/ And when summertime comes round again and corn is ripe for gathering/ We`ll find out if my notion`s wrong or right.  Chorus

They walked hand-in-hand and wandered down beside the sleepy river/ Where the city sounds grew distant in their ears/The moonbeans in the water glinted silver as he kissed her/ And the rumble of the city disappeared. Chorus   (Portrait )

If I Needed You

Chorus: If I needed you, would you come to me/ Would you come to me for to ease my pain?/ Iif you needed me, I would come to you/ I would swim the seas for to ease your pain.

Oh, the night`s forlorn and the morning`s born/ The morning`s born with the light of love/ And you`ll miss sunrise if you close your eyes/ And that would break my heart in two. Chorus

Baby`s with me now since I showed her how/ to lay her little hand in mine/ Who could ill-agree, she`s a sight to see/ A treasure for this poor boy to find. Chorus (Portrait)