Tom Tuohy and Ciaran Connaughton
Gasún, Gasún why do you walk alone
Must be the strangest feeling
Gasún Gasún you don’t have no one
All has lost its meaning
As the apple falls from the orchard tree
We grow slow as time
Walk through all those golden fields
Through the barley wheat and the rye
And now you say to me
There must be a way
For all that time will bring
Is another day
Remember when we used to talk
Down by the old oak tree
Winter nights are colder now
It’s been so many years
And now you say to me
There must be a way
To find a home for you
A place for you to stay
O Gasún where are you
Lost like a bottle
Washed out across the sea
Soon to be forgotten
Ní neart go cur le chéile
Conaic mé solas san spéir
Ní neart go cur le chéile
Conaic mé solas san spéir
This beautiful song was sent to me by Tom Tuohy. I recorded his “Honda 50” some years back. Two songs that illustrate the diversity of his writing. Tom has flown from the boglands of sweet Kildare and now resides with his family somewhere over on the European mainland. While Gasún is laden with the hopelessness and despair of homelessness, other elements appear in its short verses. I hope Tom continues to write and record. Every time I hear from him, his music has developed, his skills advanced, yet he remains a Bog Man to his very core. Ride on Tom Tuohy.