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1. |
| 3:30 | 
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At the early age of thirty-eight me mother said "Go west!"
"Get up", says she, "and get a job", says I, "I'll do my best" I pulled on me Wellingtons to march to Kiltimagh But I took a wrong turn in Charlestown and ended up in Knock Oh once this quiet crossroads was a place of gentle prayer Where Catholics got indulgent once or twice a year. You could buy a pair of rosary beads or get your candles blessed If you had a guilty conscience you could get it off your chest. Then came the priest from Partry, Father Horan was his name And since he's been appointed Knock has never been the same. "B'God" says Jem, "'tis eighty years since Mary was about" 'Tis time for another miracle." and he blew the candle out. From Fatima to Bethlehem, from Lourdes to Kiltimagh, There's never been a miracle like the airport up in Knock To establish terra firma he drew up a ten year plan And started running dances around 1961. He built a fantabulous church, Go h-alainn, on the holy ground And once he had a focal point he started to expand Chip shops and Bed and Breakfasts sprung up over night. Once a place for quiet retreats now a holy sight. All sorts of fancy restaurants for every race and creed Where black and white and yellow pilgrims all could get a feed The stalls once under canvas became religious supermarts With such a range o' godly goods, they had top twenty charts. While the airport opposition was destroyed by James' trump card. For centenary celebrations he got John Paul the twenty-third From Fatima to Bethlehem, from Lourdes to Kiltimagh, There's never been a miracle like the airport up in Knock 'We had the Blessed virgin here,' Bold Jamesie did declare, 'And Pope John Paul the twenty-third appeared just over there.' 'Now do you mean to tell me', he said in total shock, 'That I am not entitled to an airport here in Knock.' TD's were lobbied and harassed with talk of promised votes And people who'd been loyal for years now spoke of changing coats. Eternal damnation was threatened on the flock Who said it was abortive building airports up in Knock Now everyone is happy the miracle is complete. Father Horan's got his runway, it's eighteen thousand feet All sorts of planes could land there, of that there's little doubt, Handy for the George Bush to keep knock Gadaffi out. Did NATO donate, me boys, did NATO donate the dough? Did NATO donate, me Girls, did NATO donate the dough? Did NATO donate the dough, the dough, did NATO donate the dough? Eighteen thousand feet of runway is an awful long way to go. |
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| 2. |
| 3:14 |
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This graveyard hides a million secrets,
And the trees know more than they can tell. The ghosts of the saints and the scholars will haunt you, In heaven and in hell. Rattled by the glimmer man, the boogie man, the holy man, And livin' in the shadows, in the shadows of a gunman. Rattled like the coppers in your greasy till, Rattled until time stood still. Look over your shoulder, hear the school bell ring, Another day of made-to-measure history. I don't care if your heroes have wings, Your terrible beauty has been torn. CHORUS Faithful departed, we fickle hearted, As you are now so once were we. Faithful departed, we the meek hearted, With graces imparting bring flowers to thee. The girls in the kips proclaim their love for you When you stumbled in they knew you had a shilling or two. They cursed you on Sundays and holy days of abstinence, When you all stayed away. When you slept there a naked bulb hid your shame, Your shadows on the wall, they took all the blame. The Sacred Heart's picture, compassion in his eyes, Drowned out the river of sighs. Let the grass grow green over the brewery tonight, It'll never come between the darkness and the light. There is no pain that can't be eased, By the devil's holy water and the rosary beads. CHORUS You're a history book I never could write, Poetry in paralysis, too deep to recite. Dress yourself, bless yourself, you've won the fight, We're gonna celebrate the night. We'll even climb the pillar like you always meant to, Watch the sun rise over the strand. Close your eyes and we'll pretend, It could somehow be the same again. I'll bury you upright so the sun doesn't blind you. You won't have to gaze at the rain and the stars. Sleep and dream of chapels and bars, And whiskey in the jar. FINAL CHORUS Faithful departed, look what you've started; An underdog's wounds aren't so easy to mend. Faithful departed, there's no broken hearted, And no more tristesse in your world without end. |
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| 3. |
| 3:48 |
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Of all the stars that ever shone
Not one does twinkle like your pale blue eyes Like golden corn at harvest time your hair Sailing in my boat the wind Gently blows and fills my sail Your sweet-scented breath is everywhere Daylight peeping through the curtain Of the passing night time is your smile And the sun in the sky is like your laugh Come back to me my Nancy Linger for just a little while Since you left these shores I've known no peace Nor joy Chorus: No matter where I wander I'm still haunted by your name The portrait of your beauty stays the same Standing by the ocean wondering where you've gone, if you'll return again Where is the ring I gave to Nancy Spain On the day in Spring when snow starts to melt And streams to flow With the birds I'll sing this song Then in the while I'll wander Down by bluebell stream where wild flowers grow And I'll hope that lovely Nancy will return Chorus |
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| 4. |
| 3:16 |
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Lanigan's Ball
Christy Moore In the town of Athy, one Jeremy Lanigan battered away till he hadn't a shilling. His father died, made him a man again, left him a farm and ten acres of ground. Myself, to be sure, got invitations for the boys and girls I might ask. Having been asked, friends and relations danced like bees around a sweet cask. There was lashings of drink wine for the ladies, potatoes and cake bacon and tea. Nolans and Dolans and all the O'Gradys, courting the girls and dancing away. While songs went round as plenty as water, The harps that are sounded through Tara's old hall, Biddie Grey and the rat catcher's daughter singing away at Lanigan's ball. CHORUS Six long months I spent in Dublin, six long months doing nothing at all, Six long months I spent in Dublin, learning to dance for Lanigan's ball. She stepped out, I stepped in again. I stepped out and she stepped in again. She stepped out, I stepped in again, learning to dance for Lanigan's ball. They were doing all kinds of nonsensical dances all around in a whirligig. Julie and I soon banished their nonsense, Out on the floor for a reel and a jig. How the girls all got mad at me for they thought the ceilings would fall. I spent six months in Brook's Academy learning to dance for Lanigan's ball. Well the boys were merry and the girls all hearty Dancing around in their couples and groups. An accident happened; Terence McCarthy, He put his boot through Miss Finnerty's hoops. She fell down in a faint and cried, 'Holy murder!' Called her brothers and gathered them all. Carmody swore he'd go no further till he got revenge at Lanigan's ball. CHORUS Boys oh boys 'tis then there was ructions. I got a belt from Phelim Mc Hugh. I replied to his introduction, kicked up a terrible hullabaloo. Moloney the piper was near gettin' smothered. They leapt on his pipes, bellows, chanter and all. Boys and girls all got entangled and that put an end to Lanigan's ball. CHORUS |
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| 5. |
| 2:54 |
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I was lured by the rocking horse
Sweets and the bualadh bos Fifty wild boys to a room Sing lamh, lamh eile, the dish ran away with the spoon Black shoes and stockings for those who say don't Blue is the colour outside God made the world The snake tempted Eve and she died Wild Christian brothers sharpening their leathers Learn it by heart, that's the rule All I remember is dreading September and school CHORUS And they made me for better or worse The fool that I am or the wise man I'll be And they gave me their blessings or curse It wasn't their fault I was me ... Not the one that you see The priest in confession condemns my obsession With thoughts that I do not invite I mumble and stutter He slams down the shutter Goodnight - (Good night to you too, Father) Stainless as steel Lord, you know how I feel Someone shoot me while my soul is clear I don't think I'll last But my vow to abstain was sincere Arch-confraternity men to the fight Raise up your banners on high Searching for grace Securing my place When I die CHORUS Oh God, he kept a very close eye on me Hung round my bed in the darkness, he spied on me Caught me in the long grass so often, he died on me.... Ballrooms of romance in Salthill or Mallow I stood like John Wayne by the wall Lined up like cattle, we waited to do battle and fall You can't wine and dine her in an old Morris Minor So ask her before it's too late I danced on girls' toes - accepted rejection as my fate Drink was my saviour, it made me much braver But I couldn't hold it too well I slipped on the coach and ruined my approach as I fell |
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| 6. |
| 3:53 |
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It was one fine March morning I bid New Orleans adieu
And I took the road to Jackson town, my fortune to renew. I cursed all foreign money, no credit could I gain, Which filled me heart with longing for the lakes of Ponchartrain. I stepped on board of a railroad car beneath the morning sun, I rode the rods till evening and I laid me down again. All strangers there no friends to me till a dark girl towards me came And I fell in love with my Creole girl by the lakes of Ponchartrain. I said, "Me pretty Creole girl, me money here's no good, If it weren't for the alligators, I'd sleep out in the wood." "You're welcome here, kind stranger, from such sad thoughts refrain, For me Mammy welcomes strangers by the lakes of Ponchartrain. She took me into her Mammy's house, and treated me right well. The hair upon her shoulders in jet black ringlets fell. To try and paint her beauty, Im sure twould be in vain, So handsome was my Creole girl by the lakes of Ponchartrain. I asked her if she'd marry me. She said that ne'er could be For she had got a lover and he was far at sea. She said that she would wait for him and true she would remain Till he'd return to his Creole girl on the lakes of Ponchartrain. Its fare thee well, me Creole girl, I never may see you more. I'll neer forget your kindness in the cottage by the shore And at each social gathering, a flowing bowl I'll drain And I'll drink a health to my Creole girl by the lakes of Ponchartrain. |
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| 7. |
| 2:21 |
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don't forget your shovel if you want to go to work.
oh don't forget your shovel if you want to go to work. don't forget your shovel if you want to go to work or you'll end up where you came from like the rest of us diggin', diggin', diggin'... and don't forget your shoes and socks and shirt and tie and all. don't forget your shoes and socks and shirt and tie and all. mr murphy's afraid you'll make a claim if you take a fall. ("how's it goin'" "not too bad") and we want to go to heaven but we're always diggin' holes. we want to go to heaven but we're always diggin' holes. yeah we want to go to heaven but we're always diggin' holes. well there's one thing you can say...we know where we are goin'... ("any chance of a start?" "no" "okay") and if you want to do it...don't you do it against the wall. if you want to do it...don't you do it against the wall. never seen a toilet on a building site at all. there's a shed up in the corner where they won't see you at all. ("mind your sandwiches") enoch powell will give us a job, diggin' our way to annascaul. enoch Powell will give us a job, diggin' our way to annascaul. enoch Powell will give us a job, diggin' our way to annascaul. and when we're finished diggin' there they'll close the hole and all. now there's six thousand five hundred and fifty-nine paddies over there in london all trying to dig their way back to annascaul and very few of them boys is going to get back at all... i think that's terrible. don't forget your shovel if you want to go to work. don't forget your shovel if you want to go to work. oh, don't forget your shovel if you want to go to work. or you'll end up where you came from like the rest of us diggin', diggin', diggin'... |
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| 8. |
| 3:50 |
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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. 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. 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? 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. " 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? |
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| 9. |
| 3:20 |
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The time has come to part, my love,
I must go away I leave you now, my darling girl, No longer can I stay. My heart like yours is breaking Together we'll prove strong The road I take will show the world The suffering that goes on. The gentle clasp that holds my hand Must loosen and let go Please help me through the door Though instinct tells you no. Our vow it is eternal And will bring you dreadful pain But if our demands aren't recognised Don't call me back again. How their sorrow touched us all In those final days When it was the time she held the door And touched his sallow face. The flame he lit by leaving Is still burning strong By the lights it's plain to see The suffering still goes on. The time has come to part, my love I must go away I leave you now, my darling girl, No longer can I stay. |
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| 10. |
| 2:31 |
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[Am] Born in the middle of the afternoon
In a [D] horsedrawn carriage on the [G] old A-[Am]-5 [Am] The big twelve wheeler shook my bed, You [D] can't stay [Am] here the po-[D]-liceman [Em] said. CHORUS You'd [Am] better get [G] born in [D] some place [Em] else. So [Am] move along [Em] get along [Am] move along [Em] get along, [F] Go [G] Move [Am] Shift! Born in the common by a building site Where the ground was rutted by the trail of wheels The local Christian said to me, "You'll lower the price of property." You'd better get born in some place else. So move along, get along, Move along, get along, Go! Move! Shift! Born at potato picking time In a noble tent in a tatie field. The farmer said, "The work's all done It's time that you was moving on." You'd better get born in some place else. So move along, get along, Move along, get along, Go! Move! Shift! Born at the back of a hawthorn hedge Where the black hole frost lay on the ground. No eastern kings came bearing gifts. Instead the order came to shift. You'd better get born in some place else. So move along, get along, Move along, get along, Go! Move! Shift! The eastern sky was full of stars And one shone brighter than the rest The wise men came so stern and strict And brought the orders to evict You'd better get born in some place else. So move along, get along, Move along, get along, Go! Move! Shift! Wagon, tent or trailer born, Last month, last year or in far off days. Born here or a thousand miles away There?s always men nearby who'll say You'd better get born in some place else. So move along, get along, Move along, get along, Go! Move! Shift! The sleeve notes from 'Live at the Point" has two extra verses (added by Christy) Six in the morning out in Inchicore The guards came through the wagon door. John Maughan was arrested in the cold A travelling boy just ten years old. You'd better get born in some place else. So move along, get along, Move along, get along, Go! Move! Shift! Mary Joyce was living at the side of the road No halting place and no fixed abode. The vigilantes came to the Darndale site And they shot her son in the middle of the night. You'd better get born in some place else. So move along, get along, Move along, get along, Go! Move! Shift! |
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| 11. |
| 3:16 |
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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 |
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| 12. |
| 3:05 | 
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| 13. |
| 2:55 |
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Who are they to decide what we should hear?
Who are they to decide what we should see? What do they think we can't comprehend here? What do they fear that our reaction might be, might be? Section 31 on the TV Section 31 on the radio Section 31 is like a blindfold Section 31 makes me feel cold, feel cold. The pounding of the footsteps in the early morning light, Another family waking to an awful deadly fright. There's a body on the pavement with a bullet to the jaw, A thirteen-year-old victim of plastic bullet law. The silence in my ears, the darkness in my eyes, Heightens the fear, deafens the cries. Of another brother taken in another act of hate. A family preparing for another dreadful wait. Section 31 on the TV Section 31 on the radio Section 31 is like a blindfold Section 31 makes me feel cold, feel cold. |
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| 14. |
| 2:56 |
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When apples still grow in November When Blossoms still bloom from each tree When leaves are still green in December It's then that our land will be free I wander her hills and her valleys And still through my sorrow I see A land that has never known freedom And only her rivers run free I drink to the death of her manhood Those men who'd rather have died Than to live in the cold chains of bondage To bring back their rights were denied Oh where are you now when we need you What burns where the flame used to be Are ye gone like the snows of last winter And will only our rivers run free? How sweet is life but we're crying How mellow the wine but it's dry How fragrant the rose but it's dying How gentle the breeze but it sighs What good is in youth when it's aging What joy is in eyes that can't see When there's sorrow in sunshine and flowers And still only our rivers run free |
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