A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z # - Random Band
- Folk Metal / Ireland
Remember well the 30th of January,
The feeling of dread that was in the air.
The people marched for their right to equality,
They only wanted to be treated fair.
Shots were fired my a mindless military,
The people ran they were unarmed
Across the world we will read of Derry
And those who died by oppressive hands.
13 people lost their lives that Sunday,
Women, children and innocent men.
Many wounded lay crying in agony,
The knights of Malta attended them.
And so began the government cover up.
And so began the lies and deceit.
Soldiers statement would be changed and torn up,
No reports would come from men on the street.
As the years went by the people began to talk,
The hidden crimes were now being told.
Innocent protestors - shot in back,
Left to die in the winter cold.
The bullets used had all been tampered,
Maximum injury would come from them.
This tyranny will not go un-noticed,
Our day will come again.
Death Of A Gael
A warrior so proud of the woman by his side,
His faithful heart would take no other bride,
For three years they lived,
midst the forests of the land,
Strong and proud was the love
of this woman and man
Like the sky high above,
no beginning and no end,
The woman that he loves,
his life and best friend.
Until that day in December
when the snowstorms did start,
Stalked the Norseman with his bow,
put an arrow through his heart.
Hear the cry, the cry of the winter wind,
Blowing across the land,
stealing his life from him,
From the earth, and into the otherworld,
the land of Tír Na n-Óg,
is the place where he must go.
"Woman come to my side,
let your arms shield my pain,
For I know will not spend
another day with you again."
They say she will not move
from the place where he did die,
Once so strong and so proud,
She cannot talk but cry.
The Rocky Road To Dublin
In the merry month of June,
from me home I started,
Left the girls of Tuam nearly broken-hearted,
Saluted father dear, kissed me darlin´ mother,
Drank a pint of beer
My grief and tears to smother.
Then off to reap the corn
and leave where I was born,
Cut a stout black-thorn to banish ghosts and goblins,
A brand new pair of brogues
I rattled o´er the bogs,
Frightened all the dogs
on the rocky road to Dublin.
One two three four five,
hunt the hare and turn her,
Down the rocky road and all the way to Dublin,
Whack fol lal de da!
In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary,
Started by daylight next morning light and airy,
Took a drop of the pure
To keep me heart from sinking,
That´s the Paddy´s cure,
When´er he´s on for drinking,
To see the lasses smile, laughing all the while,
At me curious style
would set your heart a bubbling,
They asked if I was hired, the wages I required,
Till I was nearly tired
of the rocky road to Dublin.
In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity,
To be so soon deprived a view of that fine city,
Then I took a stroll - all among the quality,
Me bundle it was stole in a neat locality:
Something crossed me mind,
then I looked behind,
No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin´,
Inquiring for the rogue,
they said me Connaught brogue,
Wasn´t much in vogue
on the rocky road to Dublin
From there I got away me spirits never failing,
Landed on the quay as the ship was sailing,
Captain at me roared, said that no room had he,
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy,
Down among the pigs I played some funny rigs,
Danced some hearty jigs,
the water round me bubblin´,
When off to Holyhead I wished meself was dead,
Or better far instead,
the rocky road to Dublin
The boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed,
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it,
Blood began to boil, temper I was losin´,
Poor old Eierann´s isle they began abusin´,
"Hurrah me soul" says I, shillelagh I let fly,
Galway boys were by, saw I was a hobble in,
then with a loud hurrah, They joined in the affray,
We quickly cleared the way
for the rocky road to Dublin
The sky was grey and leaden,
Wolves howling on the wind.
Above the land of Tír Na n-Óg
The ancient calm still reigned.
"I long to stand on my home shore",
Said Ossian in a glare.
"But Ossian love, the is your home",
Said Niamh of the golden hair.
She seen the look upon his face,
She knew the pain he felt.
He longed to be home among his race,
With his ring-sword strapped to his belt.
"Return my love to the land of man
but be warned time rests heavily there,
Come back to me if ever you can,
Back to the land of the fair."
"Do not dismount from the steed you ride,
From this world it belongs.
If you dismount you shall fall by its side,
To be remembered only in faerie songs".
He galloped across the faerie seas,
Back to the land of man.
Watched by the Gods and the Daoine Sídhe,
His life to end as it began.
"I have returned", he said aloud,
But no one was there to hear.
His noble home once bold and proud,
Had crumbled through the many years.
A power had come into the land,
To threaten the olden ways.
The people ignore the ancient Gods,
They bid farewell to a golden age.
Ossian stopped his gallant steed,
He could see some people ahead.
"Help us please, our brother are trapped-
Beneath this dolmen", they said.
He leaned down from his mount,
And gripped the dolmen firm.
From the earth the rocks was freed,
The people beneath unharmed.
But from the strain his saddle broke,
To the earth he was cast.
A cry of pain burst from his throat,
The years now caught him at last.
In Tír Na n-Óg Niamh shed a tear,
When she saw the rider-less horse.
Ossian was gone, her greatest fear,
Her heart was full of deep remorse.
Last night as I lay dreaming
of pleasant days gone by,
Me mind been bent on rambling,
to Ireland I did fly,
I stepped on board a vision
and followed with a will
Till next I came to anchor
at the cross near Spancill Hill.
Delighted by the novelty,
enchanted with the scene,
Where in me early boyhood - often I had been,
I thought I heard a murmur
and I think I hear it still
It´s the little stream of water
that flows down Spancill Hill.
To amuse a passing fancy
I lay down on the ground,
And all my school companions
they shortly gathered round
When we were home returning
we danced with bright goodwill,
To Martin Moynahan´s music
at the cross at Spancill Hill.
It was on the 24th of June,
the day before the fair
When Ireland´s sons and daughters
and all assembled there,
The young, the old, the brave, the bold
came their duty to fulfil,
At the little church in Clooney,
a mile from Spancill Hill.
I went to see me neighbours
to see what they might say,
The old ones they were dead and gone,
the young ones turning grey,
I met the tailor Quigley, he was bold as ever still,
sure he used to make my britches
when I lived at Spancill Hill.
I paid a flying visit to me first and only love,
She´s as fair as any lilly and gentle as a dove,
She threw her arms around me
crying "Johnny I love you still",
She was a farmer´s daughter,
the pride of Spancill Hill.
Well I dreamt I hugged and kissed her
as in the days of yore
She said "Johnny you´re only joking"
as many the times before,
The c**k crew in the morning,
he crew both loud and shrill
And I awoke in California,
many miles from Spancill Hill.
The Children Of Lir
In a time of myth and magic,
lived a man of timeless power,
Lir was his name,
but his temper had turned sour.
He would not be king of the land,
Bov Dearg was chosen instead.
Lir would pay no tribute to him,
And secretly wished he was dead.
Alas with time Lir´s wife did lie,
and he was full of great sadness,
Dearg heard this and sent word to Lir,
to meet with him in his palace.
When they met they both embraced,
Their friendship was made then.
Dearg summoned his daughter eve,
And told Lir he must marry again,
Lir´s love for Eve was as strong as with his first wife,
A seed was planted, Fionnula and Aedh were born.
But her next child birth would take away her life,
Fiachra and Conn, from their mothers stomach were torn.
Lir´s sadness knew no bounds -
he cried out to the night,
Dearg was there to comfort him
and help him see the light.
He had 4 beautiful children
and with time another bride,
Eve´s sister Aoife would stay loyal to his side.
But Aiofe had a jealous side - a canker in her mind,
She moved against the children, love for them she could not find.
She took them in her chariot to a lake not far away.
And changed them into swans like night time into day.
300 years on Derravaragh, so commenced the spell,
the children would swim to the shore, their story to tell.
300 years on the sea of Moyle, a cruel and bitter place,
The children missed their father here, the smile upon his face.
In the sea of Moyle the waves did crash,
and beat the land with might,
The rain fell fierce and the wind blew hard,
the swans all feared for their lives.
Fionnula was strong and wisest of all,
And guarded her brothers from strife.
Under her wings they hid from night,
And waited for the morning light.
Finally the day did come,
to leave this terrible sea,
300 more years to live as swans,
then they at last would be free.
To Inish Gluaire the swans did fly,
As fast as they could go.
New lands and kingdoms everywhere -
Fionnula did see down below.
There they waited, till at last the day did dawn,
The spell was ending,
they felt themselves transform.
They were now ancient,
their youth was gone forever,
And as they died,
they held hands and went together.
True, you ride the finest horse I´ve ever seen,
Standing sixteen, one or two,
with eyes wide and green,
And you ride the horse so well,
hands light to the touch,
I could never go with you
no matter how I wanted to.
Ride on, see you,
I could never go with you
No matter how I wanted to.
When you ride into the night
without a trace behind,
Run your claw along my gut, one last time.
I turn to face an empty space
where you used to lie,
And look for a spark that lights the night
through a teardrop in my eye.
Life for you it was not easy,
And at times was so unfair.
In a time when works was scarce,
Many burdens were yours to bear.
You bore the brunt of grief,
When Patrick left the earth.
Such a tragedy to happen,
To a child 4 months since birth.
When Husband Jack did lay,
Fore years in a hospital bed,
You were by his side relentlessly,
To help him through this dread.
You had no time for science,
Technology was not your friend.
You lived your life in black and white,
Until the very end.
You´ve gone now to that other place,
Your work on earth is done.
Jack is waiting there for you,
In his arms he holds your son.
We know it may be long,
Before we hear your voice again.
You will always be remembered,
Never forgotten - Susie Moran.
Loneliness was all she knew,
Because of her God sent beauty.
Evil and carnage were sure to ensure,
Her death was Conchobars duty.
The high king Conchobar would not dare,
So he did her away from his people.
"Deirdre will live and grow up fair,
then marry me in my temple".
[18 yrs. Later]
She was disgusted by Conchobar,
And vowed she would not be wed.
"I love only the man who bears the colours-
Black white and blood red".
"I know such man!", her aide explained
but Deirdre could only hope.
Uisneach´s sons were led to the forest,
With Naoise, she would elope.
No place was safe for the four exiles,
They left Eireann with heavy hearts.
But to see her face and see her smile,
Gave the brothers strength to depart.
In Albas´ hills they made their home.
And began a simple life.
Local hatred had suddenly grown,
Men wanted her as a wife.
Conchobar dreamed of Deirdre his true love,
He longed for the touch of her skin.
His duties neglected, his life so affected,
"Why did she leave the court of the King?".
After some time he explained he was wrong,
Or so we were led to believe.
"This sorrowful song I have sung for too long,
Naoise agus Deirdre I now forgive".
Naoise always longed to go back home.
When he heard the news he wept.
The brothers prepared for the journey ahead,
With Fergus Mac Roth they all left.
The exiles returned to the King alone,
And knew there was something not right.
Conchobar made his plans be known,
The brothers took up the fight.
The exiles fled to the sorrowful forest,
Foloowed by the king´s men.
Deirdre was hidden but they needed rest,
They could not fight again.
Naoise smelt death and he quietly said-
"Please Deirdre stay where you are".
A belt of a sword and the brothers fell dead,
Deirdre smelt blood on the air.
"Cannot you see, I did this for you,
our wedding can now take place".
They left for Fern Mag, as the cold wind blew,
In a chariot she felt deaths embrace.
"I am Deirdre, for a short time alive,
to end life be evil, ´tis worse to survive".
From the chariot she fell to her death,
To be with Naoise, to smell his sweet breath.