Author Unknown Oh whiskey you’re the Devil, you’re leading me astray
Over hill and mountains and to Amerikay
You’re sweeter, stronger, dacenter, you’re spunkier then tay
Oh whiskey you’re me darling, drunk or sober
Well now me boys we’re on for marching
Off to Portugal or Spain
The Drums are beating, banners flying
The devil a home we’ll come tonight
Love fare thee well
With me skiddery eye dill do dill dump ee da
With me skiddery eye dill do dill dump ee da
Me right fol tooraladdy oh
There’s whiskey in the jar
The French are fighting boldly
Men are dying hot and coldly
Give every man a flask of powder
His firelock on his shoulder
Says the mother do not wrong me
Don’t take my daughter from me
For if you do I will torment you
And after death my death will haunt you
As I walked past Portlaoise Prison
“I’m innocent”, a voice was heard to say
“My frame-up is almost completed.
My people all look the other way.”
Seven years ago his torture started
A forced confession he was made to sign.
Young Irish men specially trained and chosen
Were on the heavy gang that made him run the line.
Others in the Bridewell heard him screaming
Even prison doctors could see
His injuries were not self-inflicted
Those who tipped the scales did not agree.
CHORUS
Give the Wicklow Boy his freedom
Give him back his liberty
Ore are we going to leave him in chains
While those who framed him up hold the key?
Deprived of human rights by his own people
Sickened by injustice he jumped bail,
In the Appalachian Mountains found a welcome
Till his co-accused were both released from jail.
He came back expecting to get justice
Special Branch took him from the plane
For five years we’ve deprived him of his freedom
The guilty jeer the innocent again.
CHORUS
The people versus Kelly was the title
Of the farce we staged at his appeal.
Puppets in well rehearsed collusion,
I often wonder how these men must feel.
As I walked past Portlaoise Prison
Through concrete and steel a whisper came
“My frame-up is almost completed.
I’m innocent, Nicky Kelly is my name.”
CHORUS
m.hanly/j.moynihan/c.moore
I see a dark cloud rising outside Wexford town,
I see a hard rain on Ireland pouring down.
There’ll be no time to shelter. Let’s all make a stand.
O’Malley’s* plan we’ll have to ban or he’ll destroy the land.
CHORUS
It’s the workers are being used again,
The workers are being used again.
They want four nuclear stations, and who knows how many more?
If we are to stop them, we must defend Carnsore.
So men and women of Ireland, it’s time to show your hand.
The lessons of France and the USA must make us understand.
CHORUS
Two thousand jobs are promised, believe that if you can.
O’Malley’s boys with all their ploys, they canvassed around the land,
In Carnsore, Easkey or Kilrush the ESB would build –
Should one go wrong, despite their talk, thousands could be killed.
CHORUS
We never see their faces, these multi-national czars.
Our lands they rape from cape to cape, our seas they fill with tars.
The Westinghouse industrialist confessed to bribery,
I wonder if our leaders from corruption will be free.
CHORUS
It was in 1968 Jack Lynch went back to Cork,
To open Whiddy Island where a handful of men got work.
The multi-national oil tycoons, they all turned out in style,
Ten years later fifty French lay slaughtered in the oil.
CHORUS
And when it comes to dumping waste, here’s what they plan to do.
They’ll bury it in South Armagh and down in Wicklow too,
A nuclear waste triangle right at your front door
With poison manufactured at Windscale and Carnsore.
CHORUS
They’ve tested round the valleys where the Finn goes sparkling down
To join the Shrule at bonny Lifford town,
But if there’s radioactive waste where the stream goes running by
As down the Foyle the waters boil, you’ll know the reason why.
CHORUS
So gather round you people, the fight has just begun,
We fought before, we know the score, this fight must be won.
Remember we’ve the sun up there, waiting for to turn
The wind, the tide, the ocean wide, there’s energy to burn.
CHORUS
(* – Dessie O’ Malley was the then Minister for Energy in Ireland)
its all a bit vague by now. I joined the anti-nuclear movement in the late 70s.The first action was a festival in Carnsore which was very successful in that it brought the nuclear issue on to the front page.Out of that grew the anti-nuclear roadshow and this is my first memory of this song. Mick Hanly wrote the original and I recall further writing on the bus by johnny moynihan and I.This was an exciting and formative time for many people. We discovered the power that exists when people come together, with determination, to try and effect change.This collective, though relatively short lived, sowed seeds that are still growing 30 years on in many different areas of Irish society. Many of us are still on the bus.
This song was performed on the “Nuclear Late late show” and is (I think) on the Anti-Nuclear 12″ single.The band was The Early Grave Band and featured myself, Donal Lunny, Johnny Moynihan,JimmyFaulkner and Declan McNelis.Also on the show were Freddie White,Susie Kennedy,Jack Lynch,Matt Kelleghan,Mr Clarke, Frank the Yank,Louise,Marie Creed,Fergus Cronin and others whom I will recall asap
Christy Moore\Wally Page
I met a wise and holy woman near the town where I was walkin’
We both sat together down below the Yellow Furze
She closed her eyes and started singing
A song about the light that shines and the wonders of the world
She sang of the forests on the high high mountain
The pure clear water and the fresh air we breathe
Of the bounty we gain from natures abundance
And how the mighty oak tree grows from a little seed
Chorus:
She had an everlasting notion
The wise and holy woman had a neverending dream
As she called out to the stars glistening on the ocean
Shine a light , shine a light on me
She sang a song from the streets of Sao Paolo
For the homeless street children who never learned to smile
She sang of the shrine they built to Chico Mendez
Where the plantation workers laid his body in the soil
She sang of the greed we display before our altars
The oil soaked cormorant drowning in the tide
She sang of the halting site way out beyond Clondalkin
Where Ann Maughan froze to death between the dump and the railway line
Chorus
(outro verse same shape and melody as chorus)
She sang of the eagle flying high above the mountain
The otter that swam through rivers and streams
Of the lilies that bloomed and the countless wild flowers
and the rainbow that rose in the valley of tears.
more info
My mother’s name was Nancy Power. She grew up in Ardmulchan, near Yellow Furze, which is on the southern bank of the Boyne on the low road from Navan to Beauparc (Where Mountcharles surveyed the battlefield). Her father was Jack Power from Hayestown, her mother Ellie Sheeran from The Cotton Mills. Nancy sang all her life. Old songs at first, then Hymns,light Opera, musicals, parlour songs, popular songs and traditional ballads in English and Irish. When she sang in the church on Sundays she had an enormous and beautiful deep soprano voice which emerged miraculously from deep within her diaphram. When she sang parlour and pop songs at the piano her Meath accent would peep out, when she sang the old songs, Eamon an Cnoic, Sean O’Duibhir an Gleanna or The Three Flowers it would be in a small quiet lonesome voice that often stilled my night. Writing these few words here in Belfast this morning, my tears are tears of joy for her memory and sadness for her passing. I feel no mourning for she remains a constant presence in my life and we all still cherish her. I wrote this song for Nancy Power.
CHORDS
Dm……..Am…
Dm……..Am…
Dm……..Am…
Dm C DmC G Am
Dm…….Am…
Dm…….Am
Dm………Am
Dm C Dm C G Am
chorus ( and outro verse)
F…G..C…
F…C.G..
F…G..C…
F.C.FCG
Christy Moore and Wally Page
Christy Moore (after Pastor Niemuller – dedicated to the memory of Phyllis McGhee)
Am F Am
Black triangle, pink triangle
F Am
Green triangle, red triangle
F Am
Blue triangle, lilac triangle
F G Am
And they wore the yellow triangle
C G Am
When first they came for the criminals I did not speak
F C G
Then they began to take the Jews
F C G Am
When they fetched the people who were members of trade unions
F-G Am
I did not speak
C G C G
When they took the Bible students, rounded up the homosexuals
F G Am
Then they gathered up the immigrants and the gypsies
Am
I did not speak, I did not speak
F C E7 F G Am
Eventually they came for me and there was no one left to speak
CHORUS
Jim Page
Here he comes, lookin’ for the rent,
His greedy yellow eyes and his tongue all bent,
Padlocked pockets and bad luck nose
Sniffin’ ’round my doorway and goin’ through my clothes.
Oh how could you treat me so cold?
Got a mortgage on my body and the deeds of my soul.
I’ve a run-down room with a two-way roof.
That man’s a thief. I’ve even got the proof.
He likes to take, he doesn’t like to give.
I have to pay him rent just to have a place to live.
Hey you, I know you well;
You run a rock-and-roll tavern and a greasy hotel.
You misuse a lot of people. You’re such a greedy man.
I have to put gloves on in case I touch your hand.
Oh how could you treat me so cold?
Got a mortgage on my body and the deeds of my soul.
You go sneakin ’round windows to see what you can see.
You unlock doors where you’ve got no right to be.
Your legs are weak. You’ve been tellin’ lies.
Some day somebody’s gonna get wise.
You’re gonna get evicted out in the street,
No food in your belly and no shoes on your feet
You’re gonna walk around from door to door
But nobody’s gonna want to see you anymore.
Oh how could you treat me so cold?
Got a mortgage on my body and the deeds of my soul.
You’re gonna wake up down here on the street,
Bricks and mortar lyin’ round your feet.
Treat me cold now, cold as you please
Come next winter the two of us will freeze.
Oh landlord,
How could you treat me so cold?
This was an exciting time. Donal and I agreed to work together and our next port of call was with Declan Sinnott who volunteered immediately. Then we gradually expanded. Richie Buckley played one gig in Kilkenny, Bill “Riverdance” Whelan left after one rehearsal citing political differences. Tommy Moore came and left to join Paul Brady.
One by one we slowly assembled. Brian Calnan came from Cork to sit in the traps, Eoghan O’Neill ran out of Tipperary to drive hot bass up our spines, Keith Donald came down from the mountain blowing cool air through his reed, Davy left the camps and got up on the amps – the collective was completed by Matt Kelleghan, George and Cyril and we were ready to roll.
Come All You Dreamers Live At Barrowland Glasgow[dvd]
Trad / Arr: Christy Moore
The winter it has passed
And the summer’s come at last
The small birds are singing in the trees
And their little hearts are glad
Ah, but mine is very sad
Since my true love is far away from me
And straight I will repair
To the Curragh of Kildare
For it’s there I’ll finds tidings of my dear
The rose upon the briar
By the water’s running clear
Brings joy to the linnet and the bee
And their little hearts are blessed
But mine can know no rest
Since my true love is far away from me
A livery I’ll wear
And I’ll comb back my hair
And in velvet so green I will appear
And straight I will repair
To the Curragh of Kildare
For its there I’ll find tidings of my dear
All you who are in love
Aye and cannot it remove
I pity the pain that you endure
For experience lets me know
That your hearts are filled with woe
It’s a woe that no mortal can cure
More Info
I gleaned this song from The P.W. Joyce collection in 1964.Donal Lunny and I arranged this song into its present shape.The original was written by Scotlands poet laureate Robbie Burns.It tells the story of a young Scottish woman whose lover is away soldiering for the Queen in the Curragh of Kildare.She decides to present herself for recruitment disguised as a young fellow.We never get to hear the outcome.Certainly a good case for a sequel.
Author: Traditional
Who is that there knocking the window pane
Who is that there knocking the window pane
Who is that there knocking the window pane
Only me says Cúnla
Cúnla dear, don’t come any near to me
Cúnla dear, don’t come any near to me
Cúnla dear, don’t come any near to me
Maybe’s I shouldn’t says Cúnla
Who is that there tickling the toes of me
Only me says Cúnla
Who is that there tickling the thighs of me
Only me says Cúnla
Who is that there taking the clothes off me
Only me says Cúnla
Author: Dan Penn
1
Take a look around you,how much longer can you live this way
trash on the floor from weeks before,just gets deeper by the day
cant let go of that foolish pride,you keep it locked up inside
time to face the pain,stand up and cry like a man
2
theres no one left to blame now,she had her reason why she had to go
the feelings you hid the love you could’nt give kept her from touchin your soul
you got to break down that fortress inside and surrender to the tears in your eyes
you’ll never be free again til you cry like a man
Break…..
theres no shame in letting teardrops fall,its a good thing it’ll be alright
a little rain can make the trees grow tall,you’ve got to be strong,
so stand up and cry like a man
3
You know shes gone for good now,your love is torn beyond repair
theres not a trace of a tear on your face there ought to be some there
those deep emotions you keep in the dark,if you dont let them out there goin to freeze up your heart
you’ll never be free again til you cry like a man
So Stand Up and Cry Like a Man
More Info
if you are playing with the recordings I have made -try capo on 3rd or 4th fret
CHORDS
VERSE
G………..D.G
CGCGEm.D..
Em.DG.CAm
GEmCDG
BREAK
GDEmBmDEmCG
GDEmBmDEmC.GAmDG
Author: John B. Keane
Cricklewood Cricklewood
You stole my youth away
I was young and innocent
You were old and grey
Come all you true born Irishmen and listen to my song
I am a bold buck navvy and I don’t know right from wrong
Of late I’ve been transported from Ireland’s holy shore
My case is sad my crime is bad I was born poor
If you are born poor me lads it is a shocking state
The judge will sit upon your crime and this he will relate
I find the prisoner guilty and the law I must lay down
Let him be transported straight away to Camden Town
Take him down to Cricklewood and leave him in the pub
Call the barman landlord then propose to him a sub
Leave him down in Cricklewood mid mortar bricks and lime
Let him rot in Cricklewood until the end of time.
More Info
I used to live in Moss Side Manchester sharing a room with Tony Grehan of Boyle who used to sing this song. Recorded it on my first album and discovered subsequently that it was written by John B.Keane,the late writer of Listowel
Author: Barney Rushe / Arr: Christy Moore
Well weren’t we the rare oul’ stock
Spent the evenin’ gettin’ locked
Up in the Ace O’ Hearts
Where the high stools were engaging
Over the Butt Bridge, down by the dock,
The boat she sailed at five o’clock.
‘Hurry boys, now’, said Whack,
‘Or before we’re there we’re all be back.’
Carry him if you can
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Man.
Before we reached the Alexander Basin
The ding dong we did surely raise
In the bar of the ship we had great sport
As the boat she sailed out of the port
Landed up in the Douglas Head
Enquired for a vacant bed
The dining room we soon got shown
By a decent woman up the road
‘Lads, ate it if you can.’
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Man.
Next morning we went for a ramble round
Viewed the sights of Douglas Town
Then we went for a mighty session
In a pub they call Dick Darbies.
We must have been drunk by half past three
To sober up we went swimmin’ in the sea
Back to the digs for the spruce up
And while waitin’ for the fry
We all drew up our plan.
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Mann.
That night we went to the Texas Bar,
Came back down by horse and car
Met Big Jim and all went in
To drink some wine in Yale’s
The Liverpool Judies it was said
Were all to be found in the Douglas Head.
McShane was there in his suit and shirt.
Them foreign girls he was tryin’ to flirt.
Sayin’, ‘Here, girls, I’m your man.’
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Mann.
Whacker fancied his good looks
On an Isle of Man woman he was struck
And he throwin’ the jar into her.
Whacker thought he’d take a chance
He asked the quare one out to dance
Around the floor they stepped it out
And to Whack it was no bother
Everythin’ was goin’ to plan.
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Mann.
The Isle of Man woman fancied Whack
Your man stood there till his mates came back
Whack! they all whacked into Whack
Whack was landed on his back.
The police force arrived as well,
Banjoed a couple of them as well
Landed up in the Douglas jail
Until the Dublin boat did sail,
Deported every man.
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Mann.
More Info
Sorry no essay at present.
CHORDS
Barney Rush of Sallynoggin sang his song when I met him in St.Helier,Jersey in the Channel Islands in 1968.He also gave me Nancy Spain.40 years on and both songs have entered the national repertoire.In the interim Barney has continued to sing mainly in Germany and South Africa,These days he can be heard in Spain but is spending more time back in native Sallynoggin
Author: Johnny Mulhearn / Christy Moore
Over in McCann’s there’s a grand type of danceband
a-playing and they’re spinnin’ out the Continental Ceili,
They’re comin’ in their cars from the bars over in Leitir and Killane just to hear the famous Gunther Reynolds playing.
Out the Star of Munster with Hans O’Donoghue
neatly tappin’ out a tango on the spoons.
Such commotion will act like a lotion on the struttin’
At the Continental Céilí tonight.
Wolfgang’s playing on the comb, someone shouts at him go home.
Klaus is playin’ a slow air on the bodhrán.
Quinn from Corofin his fiddle tucked beneath his chin
Ssh! He’s going to play the Bucks of Oranmore now.
And an old-fashioned lady begins to sing a song.
Ah! Lads a bit of order over there.
Clarinbridge for the chowder, keep your powder dry,
For the Continental Céilí tonight.
Ciarán closing his eyes pretends he’s in disguise,
when he sees and old flame comin’ over
He’s singing for the Swedes in their tweeds doin’ all he can to please – the night’s at such a delicate stage,
Later on he’ll give an audience to one of them or two,
He’ll sing the the Dyin’ Swan to touch their feelings,
Tonight’s his night and tomorrow night will be just the same.
Ada let me out to the bar where the boys are goin’ far
and they’re spinnin’ out the Continental Ceili.
Never mind the liquor, the music’s in my soul
So long as I can hear the band a-playin’
The pipes and the flutes and the fiddles are in tune.
Whoo! I’d love to meet a European girl
Ada now me head is goin’ light and the band is playin’ tight At the Continental Céilí tonight.
All the publicans are there, ’tis like a hirin’ fair
Tryin’ to figure out how much McCann is makin’.
To keep their pubs outta Stubbs they’re lashin’ out big subs
In a burst of fierce anticipation.
Moguls from Muckhill are starin’ at the till
Tryin’ to get the lowdown on the line-up
They’ll be buyin’ free porter for the members of the band
At the Continental Céilí tonight.
More Info
Johnny captures a special time in our lives,we were discovering the music and lyrics again, out of Rock ‘n Roll and into the Rocks of Bawn,we were flyin it, Sean Ó Conaire would walk to Dublin to sing in Slatterys,we were hitching to Boyle to hear John Reilly.There were Loungefuls of music springin up allover, The Merriman in Scariff, Carpenters of Carlow, Greens in Dungarvan,Melodys up The Nire,McGlynns in Sligo, The Cellar síos i nGaillimm,Minogues in Tulla and thats only the start of the last.The Trad was back up and runnin-mixed in with new sounds and different attitudes,less Dev and more Ronnie Drew,there was revolution in the air, Nell was burnin her bra and Ms Kenny her bridges,…..(contd page 95)
Author: Ewan McColl
The good ship Granma lies at anchor in the harbour
Waiting for the evening tide to rise and bring high water.
Bound for Cuba she must go across the Gulf of
Mexico and The Caribbean Ocean
She’s carrying a human cargo 83 good companeros
Each one burning with determination to be free
CHORUS
Against Batista, The Fidelistas, courage was their armour As they fought at Fidel’s side with Che Guevara.
Five days out from Mexico these Companeros
Landed on the Cuban beach Los Colarados
Fidel said this year will see our country and our people free Or else we will be martyrs
We’ve only guns enough for 20 the enemy has arms a plenty
Meet him and defeat him and he’ll keep us well supplied
Chorus
Five weeks later in the Canyon De La Rio
Fidels army was reduced to 18 Companeros
Hungry, weak and unafraid, learning revolutions trade in the high Sierra Maestre
Where the mountain winds did blow bearing seeds to sprout and sow
New crops in Cuban soil that marked the death of slavery
Chorus
Companeros, tu valaderos (Please correct if wrong – cm)
Courage was their armour as they fought at Fidel’s side with Che Guevara
They made their way across the peak of El Torquino
Joined by bands of volunteers and the men from Santiago
They faced Batista’s tanks and trains,drove them back across the plains,from the high Sierra Maestre
They drove the gangsters from Los Vios straight across the Cordileros
Santa Barbra fell to Che Guevara and was free.
The fire lit on that Cuban beach by Fidel Castro
Still shines all the way to Terra del Fuego
Sparks are blown upon the breeze, people rise from off their knees when they see the night is burning.
It blazes up in Venezuela, Bolivia and Guatamala
Lights the road that we must go in order to be free…..
More Info
In 1967 I travelled with the late Bob Cooney to Lincolnshire. Bob was a Brigidista from Aberdeen. We stayed in the home of Tom and June Fahy in the village of Healing. Whilst there we visited the Folk Club in Grimsby where McColl and Seeger were doing a turn. That night I heard this song for the first time. The title was “The Good Ship Granma”. When I came to sing it 35 years later I changed the title and the opening line. I decided to start the song with the line
“Fidel and Che Guevara lay on a ship at anchor in the harbour”
the original line
“The Good Ship Granma lies at anchor in the harbour”
McColl sang this song to an audience who would have known exactly to what his first line referred, I decided to open the song with a more precise reference. A fierce liberty no doubt – but no complaints yet.
I use spellings for place names in this song that must be inaccurate and, in some cases, utterly wrong. I would appreciate any corrections you can offer.
To return to Bob Cooney, he used to sing a song he wrote called “Windy Edinburgh Town” which was about James Connolly being born there. I would love to have it. Bob was a good friend and used to sing regularly at Michael Hipkiss’s club in Birmingham which ran on Sunday nights in a pub called “The Old Contemptible”
CHORDS
G.D.C…G.
G.D.C..G
D………..
Am…D..G..
C…..D…
CHORUS
DG..CG…C.D.C.D.G
Author: Traditional
My cap is frozen to my head
My heart is like a lump of lead
My shoes are frozen to my feet
With standing at your window
Let me in the soldier cried
Cold blow the rainy night
Oh let me in the soldier cried
I’ll not go back again – O
My father’s walking on the street
My mother the chamber keys do keep
The doors and windows, they do creak
I dare not let you in – O
Let me in the soldier cried
Cold blow and the rainy night
O let me in the soldier cried
For I’ll not go back again – O
Oh then she rose and let him in
And kissed his ruby lips and chin
And then they went to bed again
And soon he gained her favor
Then she blessed the rainy night
She rose and let him in – O
Now since you had your will of me
Soldier will you marry me?
No such thing can ever be
So fare you well for ever
Then she cursed the rainy night
Cold blow and the rainy night
O then she cursed the rainy night
That ever she let him in – O
Then he jumped out of the bed
He put his cap upon his head
And she had lost her maidenhead
And her mother heard the din – O
Then she cursed the rainy night
Cold blow and the rainy night
O then she cursed the rainy night
That ever she let him in – O
More Info
I learned this in Crumpsall village in 1967 from the singing of Mike Harding whom I befriended when he booked me to play at his Folk Club. This ran each Sunday night in The Old House at Home, a grand little pub in the shadow of the I.C.I. factory( the IKKY works) nr Middleton, Manchester. Recorded it with Planxty in 1974 and did a solo version on The Box Set 1964-2004. Peter Byrne of Inchicore sings a great version of this song,I am biased-he is married to my sister Eilish .
CHORDS
beat the bowrawn
Author: Trad / Arr: Christy Moore
By Clyde’s Bonnie Banks as I sadly did wander,
Among the pit heaps as evening drew nigh.
I spied a fair maiden all dressed in deep mourning,
She was weeping and wailing with many a sigh.
I stepped up beside her and thus I addressed her;
“Pray tell me fair maid of your sorrow and pain.”
Oh sobbing and sighing at last she did answer;
“Johnny Murphy, kind sir, was my true lover’s name.”
Twenty one years of age full of youth and good looking,
To work in the mines of high Blantyre he came.
The wedding was fixed all the guest were invited,
That calm summers evening my Johnny was slain.
The explosion was heard, all the women and children,
With pale anxious faces they ran to the mine.
When the news was made known all the hills rang with mourning,
Three hundred and ten young miners were slain.
Now husbands and wives and sweethearts and brothers,
That Blantyre explosion you’ll never forget.
And all you young miners that hear my sad story,
Remember your comrades who lie at their rest.
More Info
maybe it was Arthur Johnson of Glasgow or Dick Gaughan of Leith who first sang this song, it could have been in the backroom of The Scotia or the snug in Sandy Bells.Still the bosses skimp on safety conditions in the workplace.In 2007 I see it every where I go.
Author: unknown, now of the tradition
you may travel far far from your own native home
far away oer the mountains far away oer the foam
but of all the fine places that I’ve ever seen,
theres none to compare with The Cliffs of Dooneen
take a view oer the water fine sights you’ll see there
you’ll see the high rocky slopes on the West coast of Clare
the towns of Kilrush and Kilkee can be seen
from the high rocky slopes at The Cliffs of Dooneen
its a nice place to be on a fine Summer’s day
watching all the wild flowers that ne’er do decay
the hare and lofty pheasant are plain to be seen
making homes for their young round The Cliffs of Dooneen
fare thee well to Dooneen fare thee well for a while
and to all the fine people I’m leaving behind
to the streams and the meadows where late I have been
and the high rocky slopes of The Cliffs of Dooneen
More Info
Here is a song I first heard in 1965.I have heard versions from Andy Rynne, Ann Mulqueen and Mick McGuane.It is a very simple piece of writing yet the combination of its lyric and music have people around the world.I have heard it sung in very different styles too.Margo recorded a “Country and Irish” version whilst Andy Rynne used to sing it in the Sean-Nós style with his finger in his ear and his keks tucked into his Kerouacs.Last night in Enniskillen I gained another verse from Paddy Shannon
“I have traced my own footsteps in search of some gold
thru the dancehalls and cinemas where love stories are told
its there you will see every lad and coleen
going home by the slopes of the cliffs of Doneen”
Dont like this verse, I’ll not be updating my version which I seldom sing now, only when conditions are perfect.Its a temperamental song and cannot be done at will
Author: Phil Ochs
Sit by my side come as close as the air sharing a memory of grey,
Wander in my world, dream about the pictures I play, of changes.
Green leaves of summer turn red in the fall to brown and to yellow they fade.
Then they have to die and drop within the circle grand parade of changes.
Scenes of my young years are warm in my mind visions of shadows that shine,
’til one day I return and find they were the victims of the vines of changes.
The world is spinning madly adrift in the dark, it swings through a hollow of haze,
a race around the stars, a journey through the universe ablaze with changes.
Moments of magic will glow through the night all fears of the forest are gone.
When the morning breaks they’re swept away like golden drops of dawn by changes.
Oceans will part to a strange melody, as fires will sometimes burn cold.
Like water in the wind we are puppets to the silver strings of changes.
Our tears will be trembling when we are somewhere else, one last cup of wine we will pour.
I’ll kiss you one more time and leave you on the rolling river shore of changes.
More Info
We were living in Rialto.It was just after The Hunger Strikes of ’81. Eamon McCann visited and subsequently sent me tapes of Phil Ochs.I loved his work.One album was called “Gunfight at Carnegie Hall” I have considered many of his songs but this one was the only one I managed to inhabit.His work is worth checking out.It stands the test of time.
Author: Martin Egan / Christy Moore
C F C G
If it’s drink you want and plenty of feeding
F G C
And you like the bed as well
C F C G
Grab the wife, throw the kids in the Datsun
F G C
Make for Inch and the Strand hotel
C F C
If talk of turf drives you crazy
C F G
And you can’t face a bale of hay
C F C G F G C
Make for Foley’s work the topshelf talk puck, pints and the GAA
CHORUS
C F C
Casey, Casey you’re the divil
C F G
When you get behind the wheel
C F C G F
It was a sad day for the Kerry sheepdogs
C G F – C
When your Firestones they did feel
Oh the low road goes from Killorglin all the way down to Annascaul
When Casey came to guide us he never used his brakes at all
A trail of sheepdogs littered Kerry from Killorglin to Macroom
He might have been all soul’s salvation but he also was the sheep dog’s doom
From the holy dioceses of Galway Eamonn went to London town
Where the traffic cops out on their duty they overtook and flagged him down
As he was tearing after luncheon around the city like a loon
Regardless to his rank and station they forced him to blow up their auld balloon
Geographically he was in limbo faced with justice true and true
No obligations were accepted he was rightly up the flue
No bolt of lightning from the heaven could remove the boys in blue
Well he wished the force that had worked at Cana would turn his wine into water too
CHORUS
When Ronnie Reagan came to Ireland all the wankers made a great furore
But Eamonn remembered bishop Romero said he’d even up the score
Casey Casey said “God willin’ I’ll meet Reagan on the road
Niall O’Brien will hear his confessions when I’ve taught him the Green Cross Code”
Casey Casey you’re the right man to teach them Yankees right from wrong
If it wasn’t for yourself and Reagan there wouldn’t be much to Martin Egan’s song
CHORUS
More Info
I first encountered Martin Egan in The Meeting Place,Dorset St, Dublin circa 1977.That is our story and we’ll stick to it.10 years on and I visited him down nr Annascaul Co.Kerry where he played me some of his songs.We drank strong tay from hairy geowls and laughed our way through the night.I began to sing it and twas Bishop Eamon himself who provided the focus which gleaned the song great favour in most quarters.I have added lines here and there over the years. Martin continues to write.
Author: Christy Moore
How’s it going everybody now you’re very welcome to this evening’s Cabaret,
I’d like to thank you for the trouble, you’ve been taking to come and hear me play
Like I know the efforts that you make and all the troubles you had to take
When you decide you’re gonna go out and see a show
Your wife says “Oh not Christy Moore, we’ve heard him loads of times before,
We’re gonna miss Gay Byrne on the Late Late Show.
Ah, there’s people here upon my word, from every corner of the world:
From Portalington. Portlaoise and Tullamore.
From Two Mile House and Poulaphouca, Blacktrench, Cutbush and Boolea,
Such a crowd I’ve never seen before.
Well you’re welcome welcome everyone,
Special Branch all on the run
With your Fine Gael, Fianna Fáil or Sinn Féin.
When the elections are all over we’ll be pushing up clover
I tell ye everyone in the graveyard votes the same.
CHORUS
didelidedei etc…..
My belly thought my throat was cut,
And all the restaurants were shut as I was driving out through Kinnegad.
So I drove on to Mother Hubbard’s where I saw a swarm of truckers,
And I said to myself This place doesn’t look too bad.
In came a forty foot lorry, leaking lines of slurry,
And the King of the Road jumps down and he says to me:
“Hey John. Don’t I know you’re face are ye Paddy Reilly or Brendan Grace,
Are ye Mary Black or Freddie White says he.
I said “come hear and I’ll tell ye”….
CHORUS
And wait till I tell you what happened to me today.
I was coming up the dual carriageway.
Half a mile the far side of Naas,
The Irish army they were all over the place,
So I pulled in and I rolled my window down.
The Saighdúirí* surrounded my car,
I thought it was the third world war,
Some of them boys were throwing Shi’ite shapes.
I said ” Hey Brigadier General, what appears to be the trouble?”
He said “Don’t forget your shovel, have you any auld autographs or tapes?”
I do say I but what about the Leb?
CHORUS
(* – Saighdúirí = Soldiers)
More Info
it was simply the idea of putting some verses together to break the ice,it was a time when most of my gigs were late night affairs and audiences would have taken on quite a sup of ale prior to the gig ( the act too for that matter).Back then, in the mid 80s, many venues ran Discos with a Cabaret act to open up proceedings-that was me. This song was an ice breaker,it made a lot of noise,had a bit of crack and allowed me to attract a bit of attention towards the stage of whatever kip I was cabaretting.The record label of the day put it out as a radio play single in London where a couple of jocks took a shine to it which gained the song slight notoriety in the BigSmoke during the Thatcher years.I have not sung it for 10 years
Author: Charlie Murphy
In the cool of the evening they used to gather beneath the stars, in the meadow, circled near an old oak tree.
At the times appointed by the seasons of the earth and the phases of the moon.
In the centre often stood a woman, equal to the others and respected for her worth.
One of the many we call the witches, the healers and the teachers of the wisdom of the earth.
People grew in the knowledge she gave them, herbs to heal their bodies spells to make their spirits whole.
Hear them chanting healing incantations-calling for the wise ones celebrating in dance and song.
ISIS-ASTARTE-DIANA-HECATI-DEMETER-KALI-INANNA
There were those who came to power through domination, bonded in their worship of a dead man on the cross.
They sought control over all people, demanding allegiance to the church of Rome.
The pope commenced the inquisition – a war against women whose powers were feared.
In this holocaust, this century of evil, nine million European women died.
The tale is told of those who by the hundreds, holding hands together chose their deaths in the sea.
Chanting the praises of the mother goddess, a refusal of betrayal, women were dying to be free.
ISIS-ASTARTE-DIANA-HECATI-DEMETER-KALI-INANNA
Now the Earth is a witch, we still burn her, stripping her down with mining and the poison of our wars.
Still to us the Earth is still a healer a teacher and a Mother a weaver of a web that keeps us all alive.
She gives us the wisdom to see through the chaos, she gives us the courage it is our will to survive.
ISIS-ASTARTE-DIANA-HECATI-DEMETER-KALI-INNANNA.
More Info
Roy Bailey of Nottingham, England recorded this song having learned it from the writer Charlie Murphy of California. Martha McClelland of Derry heard Roy’s version and passed it on to my sister Terry Moore in Co. Kildare. She rightly thought the song would appeal to me and I began singing it in the early 90s. I have recorded it on three separate occasions finally getting it done to my own satisfaction on “Burning Times” in 2005. Like many songs and poems it does not look great on the page but comes to life when the air is blown into it. Then the beauty of the words, tho’ awful betimes, sail out and create imagery that never fails to stir me as the song gets sung. We are destroying that which sustains us, as sure as the sun has gone down this night. It feels to me like we are past the point of no return so let us sing and dance as if there were no tomorrow.
Author: Traditional
Come all ye maidens young and fair
And you that are blooming in your prime
Always beware and keep your garden fair
Let no man steal away your thyme
CHORUS
For thyme it is a precious thing
And thyme brings all things to my mind
Thyme with all its flavours, along with all its joys
Thyme, brings all things to my mind
Once I had a bunch of thyme
I thought it never would decay
Then came a lusty sailor
Who chanced to pass my way
And stole my bunch of thyme away
CHORUS
The sailor gave to me a rose
A rose that never would decay
He gave it to me to keep me reminded
Of when he stole my thyme away
CHORUS
Come all ye maidens young and fair
And you that are blooming in your prime
Always beware and keep your garden fair
Let no man steal away your thyme
More Info
this is my most embarrassing moment