Sing us a song
A song to keep us warm
Thereās such a chill, such a chill
And you can laugh
A spineless laugh
We hope your rules and wisdom choke you
Now we are one in everlasting peace
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Her eyes they shone like black puddings
Youād think she was queen of the land
With a bucket of spuds in her apron
And half a pigs arse in each hand
Name the artist?
Seamus Moore
Noā¦
Itās not deep enough for Kavanaghā¦.
Seamus Moore is the intellectual manās Richie Kavanagh.
If you havent heard My Little Honda 50 live I would recommend you get to the Ploughing this year, you are in for a treat.
Enlighten us.
Jon Kenny.
He used sing it inside in Costelloeās Tavern, mid ā80s. Few lads on here used say they frequented, so I thought theyād know. Student night outs.
He also did a sketch where heād put an empty TV set over his head and roar āyes, yes, yes with the EBSā. An add of the times. Packed and the sweat rolling off him.
We used go in there with a lad from Knocklong, good days, so we got to know him well. The Tatch in Emly was a great spot back then.
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Oh, this lonely world is wasted
Pathetic eyes high-alive
Blind to the tide thatās turned the sea
The storm, it came up strong
It shookā the trees and blew away our fear
I couldnāt even hear
To go it alone and hold it along
Haul it along and hold it
Go it alone and hold it along
And hold
Is that a song about jerking off?
Isnāt all music?
Can I get a witness?
(Yeah!)
I said can I get a witness?
Oh come all ye faithful
Oh joyful and triumphant
Gather around,
While I blow my own trumpet
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Black Grape 1995
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The judge he told his friends around. Heād put them rebels down.
Communist bastards was the name the judge he gave these two fine men.
Are you going across to Ireland?
Will you take me in your car?
Iām sure youāll find my conversation sound
I can pay my way entirely
enjoy your company
Leave me off in any Tipperary Town
Chorus
Leave me on the road to Nenagh
Where the rippling Shannon calls
And the Arra Mountains join the Silvermines
Iāll be happy too in Cahir
Where the Galtee shadows fall
Iām at home in any Tipperary Town
Sure thereās Cashel Tipp and Lorra
Old Borris and Clogheen
You can take me where Iāve never been before
In Dundrum, Roscrea or Carrick
In Thurles or Clonmel
Or my birthplace by the town of Templemore
Chorus
I relive again the memory
Of days I used to know
Ere I let my wandering dreams invade my mind
In that little town of Emly
I knew so long ago
How I rue the day I left it all behind
Chorus
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We should grey together
Not that pigeon-chested Trafalgar grey
The grey that greets you on that first October day
The grey of Russian front, whilst wolves bay
And the skeleton of life that love decays
Heard this on Rising Time this morning.
One more cup of coffee for the road
One more cup of coffee 'fore I go
To the valley below
The perfect love song
It has no words
It only has death threats