Lament for the Curlew
Author: Dave Barron
Air: The Star of the County Down (slow version)
The song laments the extermination of nature, symbolised by the Curlew, by the actions of mankind.
LAMENT FOR THE CURLEW
I hear no more the haunting cry
Of the curlew’s lonesome call
In the darkness of the night time sky
Somewhere above my hall.
CHORUS
She’s fallen victim, with her kind,
To mankind’s greed for MORE.
When all is gone, it’s then we’ll find
ENOUGH is more than MORE.
Where once she called out to her mate,
In bogs by Barrow’s shore,
The empty sky is now her fate;
The bogs are there no more.
CHORUS
The bogs she shared with cock and teal
Are drained to make more crops;
Now there's only one great field:
No cover, gorse, or copse.
CHORUS
The mountain marsh where once she roamed
With woodcock, snipe and hare
Now grows only Pine tree groves.
Dry ground beneath is bare.
CHORUS
We've taken much of Flora now
From Nature's treasure trove:
The Fauna soon will follow now,
Then we'll be next to go.
CHORUS
We've fallen victim with our kind
To our kind's greed for more;
When all is gone it's then we'll find
ENOUGH is MORE than MORE.
Mammon's World
Author: Dave Barron
Air: The Rising of the Moon
For centuries ordinary people struggled under the oppression of the ruling classes; in Ireland there were many rebellions against the weight of colonial imperialism. While we now have political freedom, ordinary people are still under oppression from the financial moguls of the world. The old song, 'The Rising of the Moon' is about Irish people suffering under colonial oppression; the old air is used here in this song about the oppression of the new colonial rulers, the Bankers.
You grew and built your business through long, hard working days:
The bankers came and broke it, then they stole it all away.
You cannot trust the bankers, their only god is greed
And they hide behind their agents who do their dirty deeds.
CHORUS
They brought us rack and ruin, they brought us doom and gloom,
Their fierce greed almost ruined us; vultures sing the same sad tune.
The bankers’ god is Mammon, the Christians’ God, Yahweh;
It’s awful sad to see today how Mammon trumps Yahweh.
They’d no care for the workers, they’d no more care for you;
They only cared for profits, that bonus-hungry crew.
You offered to restructure, construct a new, fair loan,
But they spurned you and your offer, then they took away your home.
CHORUS
You fought them to the High Court; the lawyers played their games;
The lawyers all got well paid but their games still lost your claim.
The law should lead to Justice, it’s sad that’s not the way;
It’s legal games more than God’s Truth in the gold courts of today.
CHORUS
Your solace comes from family, from friends, your Christian creed;
Leave the bankers and their Mammon to the rat-race world they
breed.
The bankers’ god is Mammon, the Christians’ God, Yahweh;
It’s awful sad to see today how Mammon trumps Yahweh.
CHORUS
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.
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
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.
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
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.
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?
O Great St. Lazerian
Air: O Glorious St. Patrick
Theme: Religion, Local Character
Location: Carlow West, especially Old Leighlin
A hymn in praise of one of the great local saints.
The recording was made at Easter 2019, sung by the choir of St. Lazerian's cathedral at the annual celebration of the saint's feastday.
Verses 3 and 4 were recently added by Dave Barron.
Ár gCultúr Beo / Our Living Culture
Air: Oro Se do Bheatha Abhaile
Author: D. Barron
Singers: Carlow Storytellers
Theme: Pride in our native culture
Location: County Carlow
CHORUS
Óro, Ár gcultúr gleoite, (our beautiful culture)
Óro, our culture’s growing,
Óro, ár gcultúr beomhar, (our living culture)
Alive and beo in Carlow. (well)
They tried to take our culture from us,
Tried to force their culture on us;
But 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;
But 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
And we’ll save our ancient ways.
CHORUS
________________________
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.
D. Barron
From Carlow Streams