Tribute to Con Greaney
Author: Tony Malone
Theme: Character
Location: Carlow town
Tony remembers the visit to the Carlow Singers' club of the great Con Greaney
Green Hills of Rossmore
Author: Seamus Dunne
Singer: Seamus Dunne
Second singer: Fiach Moriarty
Theme: Pride in place and the end of the colliery
Location: Carlow west
Seamus remembers life as a collier and some sights of Rossmore, before having to emigrate when the works closed
There’s many a place in Ireland of fame and great renown
And there’s one of them so dear to me quite near to Carlow town.
I’ll love this place forever, it is part of all my core,
It’s the place where I was born and reared on the green hills of Rossmore.
On looking down from these high hills, fine sights there can be seen,
With the Barrow flowing gently among the fields of green;
The Wicklow hills in the distance and Mount Leinster to the fore:
It’s no wonder that my heart did break on leaving sweet Rossmore.
When young I worked in Rossmore mine, I worked there every day
With a pick and shovel colliering the coal, that’s how I earned my pay.
The work was hard and conditions bad, and my bones were oft times sore
But I’ll never forget the friends I made while working in Rossmore.
Then things go bad and the mines closed down, they said there was no coal,
With nothing left for the miners but to sign upon the dole;
So I packed my bags to emigrate like many’s the man before
And I said goodbye to Carlow town and the Green Hills of Rossmore.
Now I’m over here for many’s the year in this great English town,
But the place that I would like to be is high over Carlow town;
And if ever I return again to stand on my father’s floor
I’ll never more be parted from the Green Hills of Rossmore.
And if ever I return again to stand on my father’s floor
I’ll never more be parted from the Green Hills of Rossmore.
Life
Author: Dave Barron
Air: Siun Ui Dhuibhir
Theme: Transience of Life's joys, sadnesses and potential.The old song Siun Uio Dhuibhir tells the story of missed opportunity for love. Life passes so quick-ly. Some see it as a few brief moments of joy in a sea of sadness; others see it as a sad time lead-ing to hope for happiness in a distant new life. Whatever the belief, we should seek to make the most of each phase of our life, to seek fulfilment of the innate potential within us.
LIFE
Farewell to the days of our youth, now long gone bye,
The red sap that pulsed through young limbs now sere and dry;
The hot pulse that throbbed in wild heart and fiery limbs,
Now chilled and faded in time as memory dims.
Lonely and sad are the parents when young must depart,
Leaving the family home and the warmth of the hearth;
Memories of moments, days full of joy and sun;
The brighter the memories, the darker the sorrows run.
Deep is the grief and sorrow when old friends must part,
A dark pall of gloom to pummel and bruise the heart;
The pain and the darkness strangle the joy of life;
Dismal and drear is the feeling, both day and night.
Sad is the heart when lovers must say goodbye;
The wild passion and zest of fresh love long gone bye;
The laughter and glow now lost in a sea of tears;
Lovers no more, just companions in their last years.
So sadness and joy are parts of our human life;
The higher the joy the deeper our grief will lie;
To each phase of life one question remains the key:
Am I content, or, Am I all I might be?
Mother
Author: Dave Barron
Air: May Morning Dew
May Morning Dew is a love song: what greater love is there than that between a mother and child? It is not the same as love for a partner, child, grandchild, father or friend. It is unique in its depth and gentleness and is often, sadly, only fully appreciated when the mother has passed away.
MOTHER
The bright wind of Springtime brings you to my mind,
Filled with fine promise, all gentle and kind;
Fountain of hope and my bright, guiding star,
Still guiding my life choice from Heaven afar.
The soft breeze of Summer recalls you and me
Enjoying the garden in the shade of the trees;
My love for you deepens with each passing breeze.
When I think how you loved me my heart melts in tears.
The chill wind of Autumn means harvest is here,
Storing the fresh fruits and the yields of the year.
Your harvest of wisdom, gleaned through your years,
Shared freely and wisely throughout all our years.
The wild wínds of Winter bring warm thoughts of you;
Through the wild storms of life your guidance was true;
Your warm hearth was cosy, where love warmed the air,
Just like your own heart and the peace that lay there.
All winds and all seasons keep you in my mind,
Your wisdom and guidance, so gentle and kind.
Your caring and sharing made our house a home.
Your peace is all gone now, Mother, mo bhrón.
The Secrets of the Stones
Author: Dave Barron
Air: England's Motorway
England’s Motorway is a song about the Irish man away from home and building a legacy in stone. Ireland’s culture was one of oral tradition and most buildings in the Celtic era were made from wood. However, there was also stone work of exceptional quality, think of the passage tombs, the great Dolmens, the Celtic crosses, the round towers, the tower houses, the castles. Imagine the stories they could tell about our history and our ancestors; if only we knew how to tap into the ‘secrecies of stone’!
The druids worshipped golden Fionn five thousand years ago;
They marked his birthday every year in monuments of stone;
And when mid-winter morning sun peeped o’er the rim of gold
It lit the shrine of Newgrange stone right to the very core.
CHORUS
It’s in our bones and it’s in the stones,
It’s hidden in the stones.
The story of our Irish soul
Is written in the stones
CúChulainn chose a life so short, but long-term fame and glory.
He lived life well, he faced his hells, he lives in tale and story;
And when his time to pass came round, much sooner than for most
He died alone, the raven found him fastened to a stone.
CHORUS
Our Celtic bards kept history in song and tale and lore.
The early monks then wrote their books in timber huts, remote.
But huts were burned and lore forgot, we needed something more
So Cill and tower, and cell and bower were built with solid stone.
CHORUS
The Celtic clans built dún and rath in timber, more than stone;
But Norman towers, a stronger power, used harder, lasting stone.
Then English walls maintained their laws, the Celtic way was o’er,
The people gone, the culture lost but minded in the stones.
CHORUS X 2
The Seasons of Our Years
Author: Dave Barron
Air: Shanagolden
Singer: Mick O'connor
Theme: The old song Shanagolden, is a love song of unfulfilled love, cut short by premature death; some have been luckier in life to have found fulfilment through a long and happy marriage.
The imagery of the seasons reflects the different stages of love for a couple as they move through life together until one must pass over and leave the partner for a time, until the spirits are reunited in eternity. The mortal cycle of life is replaced by the linear life of the spirit.
THE SEASONS OF OUR YEARS
Do you remember, darling, the springtime of our years,
The passion, the tensions, the laughter, and some fears?
We planted love together and tended it with care
And we faced into our seasons, uncertain what lay there.
Do you remember, darling, the summer of our years?
Our love produced fresh saplings, with all new hopes and fears.
They needed careful pruning, much energy and care;
They took the focus of our love, through years of sun and rain.
Then we enjoyed high summer, high summer of our years.
The saplings that we tended were now fine strong young trees.
We’d now more time together, more time to give and share
And to face into next season, our love still rich and rare.
And then we reached our autumn, the harvest of our years,
We thanked the Lord in Heaven for all the gifts we reaped.
We faced into our winter, the lonely frost and cold,
With confidence and comfort in the springtime of our souls.
Now we’ve reached our winter and cold frost chills our bones;
The saplings that we tended now have saplings of their own.
Soon I’ll leave this cycle, into the world of soul;
There I’ll wait for you, my darling, and together we’ll go home.
ÁR GCULTÚR BEO / OUR LIVING CULTURE
Air: Óro Sé Do Bheatha ‘Bhaile
Author: Dave Barron
Theme: A celebration of how our oral cultural heritage has survived and is now growing again.
The Celtic Irish oral tradition of music and song has faced many challenges to its survival, from Penal Laws to changing trends and fashions. At one time mocked and derided, it was always kept alive in the Rambling Houses and by people who loved their traditions. Now, the ancient culture is growing strong again, not only holding its own but growing in popularity.
The song Óro, Sé Do Bheatha ‘Bhaile was about restoration of freedom and culture; it seems appropriate to match these words with the old melody.
CHORUS
Óro, Ár gcultúr gleoite, (our beautiful culture)
Óro, our culture’s growing,
Óro, ár gcultúr beomhar, (our living culture)
Alive, beomhar in Carlow. (well)
They tried to take our culture from us,
Tried to force their culture on us;
Our fathers placed a geasa on us: (obligation)
To save our ancient ways.
CHORUS
They told us that we had to change,
To leave our past on a previous page;
We’ll save our ways for the coming age:
We’ll save our ancient ways.
CHORUS
The rambling house was the place to meet
But in recent years its fate looked bleak;
Some kept our old Way’s heart abeat
And saved our ancient ways.
CHORUS
They thought we’d fade with modern fashions
We love our culture with great passion;
We’ll always care for our great tradition
We’ll save our ancient ways.
CHORUS X 2
My Ballinabranna Home
Author : Seamus Dunne
Singer: Seamus Dunne
A song in praise of Ballinabranna, place and people
Theme: Pride in Place
You may sing about Killarney and the homes of Donegal
But one place is so dear to me, it’s the very best of all.
The place that I return to no matter where I roam,
It’s that little spot in Carlow, It’s my Ballinabranna Home.
When young I often walked by the Barrow down below
And gazed upon the barges and wondered where they’d go.
We used to swim there by the weir and frolicked in the foam;
‘Twas scarcely half-a-mile away from my Ballinabranna Home.
I remember too the fields around where we hurled and played football.
Jack Dunne, John Brien and Billy Dobbs, those great men I recall.
It’s thanks to them and many more and the foresight they had shown
That we have a pitch and clubhouse in my Ballinabranna Home.
I remember too the little schools by the churchgate, one each side,
For the teaching of John Conwill they were known both far and wide.
John tyndall, a great scientist, and the famous Cardinal moran
Were two of the great scholars from my Ballinabranna Home.
The old girls school became the hall where we danced on Friday night
When the local basnd they took the stage they filled us with delight.
Some of those musicians to their eternal rest have gone
But Ber Landy is still playing around my Ballinabranna Home.
It was in that hall we saw the plays produced by Master Doyle;
The casts they put on a great show after many weeks of toil.
‘Sharon’s Grave’ and ‘Sive’ were some of the plays well known
That we were entertained with in my Ballinabranna Home.
And the people of the village, I’ve left them until last,
They all helped one another in the hard times that are past.
They shared the little that they had, spuds and veg they had grown.
Ah, the neighbours they were great back then in my Ballinabranna Home.
The chapel of St. Fintan’s with its graveyard closely by,
Where my parents and relations in peaceful slumber lie.
It’s where I hope my bones will rest there in that sacred loam
And forever be contented in my Ballinabranna Home.
The Demon Inside
Author: Dave Barron
Air: The Wild Rover
Drug dependency is probably the single greatest blight on the youth of today. It is easy to fall into the clutches of the Drug Demon, Beelzebub (the Lord of the Flies) is inside everyone. It is extremely difficult to escape the clutch of that Demon and its agents.
The song, The Wild Rover, is about the hope around the return of a prodigal son after a wild and carefree youth. Unlike the youth in the old song, the modern youth finds it much more difficult to return to family and 'normal' life.
The Demon Inside Air: The Wild Rover
Voice 1
I was born with a craving my very first day,
My blood pumped some strange stuff that pushed through my veins;
The doctors did clean it and made me okay
But the demon inside me stayed in me always.
CHORUS: And I long for the day, will it ever arrive,
When I’m free forever from the demon inside.
Voice 2
My parents still love me despite all I’ve done,
I really have been their own prodigal son.
They gave me more chances than they should have done
But I squandered and wasted every last one.
CHORUS
Voice 1
I’m a thief and a pusher, to pay for my needs,
My need for more fixes controls all my deeds.
I eat when I’m hungry, I sleep when I’m tired
But always my torment is my demon inside.
CHORUS
Voice 2
They paid for my schooling and toys of the best;
I was fed and dressed better than all of the rest.
They tried hard to save me from our local bad scene
But despite their best efforts I was simply too green.
CHORUS
Voice 1
My mother did love me but in her own way;
She had many men visit but none of them stayed.
I ne’er had a father to show me the way,
A real Dad to teach me that crime does not pay.
CHORUS
Voice 2
I squandered my money then borrowed some more;
The main man’s enforcers soon came to my door.
They forced me to dealing to pay for my debts;
The youngsters I hooked are another regret.
Evictions 2018
Author: Seamus Dunne
The horror of the eviction is not confined to part of our sad history; it is still afflicting sections of our community today. Seamus here records the trauma as it affects a family in the throes of eviction.