Sung by George Donaldson, Keith Harkin, Ryan Kelly, Emmet Cahill and Neil Byrne.
Croilar na farraige
Croi na mara
Deus, deus meus
Ad te deluce
Vigilo
Et innomine tuo
Levabo
Manus meas
Allelujah
Deus meus
Deus meus
Deus meus
Tag: George Donaldson
Seven Drunken Nights
Sung by George Donaldson, Keith Harkin, Emmet Cahill, Neil Byrne, and Ryan Kelly. (Voyage version)
Sung by George Donaldson, Keith Harkin, Emmet Cahill, Neil Byrne, Ryan Kelly, and Colm Keegan. (Mythology version)
As I went home on Monday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a horse outside the door where my old horse should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: “Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that horse outside the door where my old horse should be?”
“Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk, you silly old fool, still you cannot see
That’s a lovely sow that me mother sent to me.”
“It’s many a day I’ve travelled a hundred miles or more
But a saddle on a sow sure I never saw before.”
And as I went home on Tuesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a coat behind the door where my old coat should be
So I called me wife and I said to her: “Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that coat behind the door where my old coat should be?”
“Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk, you silly old fool, still you cannot see
That’s a woolen blanket that me mother sent to me.”
“It’s many a day I’ve travelled a hundred miles or more
But buttons in a blanket sure I never saw before.”
As I went home on Wednesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a pipe up on the chair where my old pipe should be
So I called his wife and I said to her: “Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that pipe up on the chair where my old pipe should be?”
“Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk, you silly old fool, still you cannot see
That’s a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me.”
“It’s many a day I’ve travelled a hundred miles or more
But tobacco in a tin whistle sure I never saw before.”
And as I came home on a Thursday? …Thursday night as drunk as drunk could be
I-I-I saw two boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be
Well, I called me wife and I says to her: “Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns them boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be?”
“Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk, you silly old fool, still you cannot see
They’re two lovely geranium pots me mother sent to me.”
“Well, it’s many a day I’ve travelled a hundred miles or more
But laces in geranium pots I never saw before.”
Well, as I went home on Friday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a head upon the bed where my bald head should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: “Would you kindly tell to me
Who owns that head upon the bed where my old head should be?”
“Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk, you silly old fool, still you cannot see
That’s a baby boy that me mother sent to me.”
“Well, it’s many a day I’ve travelled a hundred miles or more
But a baby boy with his whiskers on sure I never saw before.”
“Ah, you’re drunk, you’re drunk, you silly old fool, still you cannot see
That’s a baby boy that me mother sent to me.”
“Well, it’s many a day I’ve travelled a hundred miles or more
But a baby boy with his whiskers on sure I never saw before.”
“But a baby boy with his whiskers on sure I never saw before.”
Song for the Mira
Sung by Keith Harkin, Emmet Cahill, Neil Byrne, Daniel Furlong, George Donaldson, and Ryan Kelly.
Out on the Mira on warm afternoons
Old men go fishing with black line and spoons
And if they catch nothing they never complain
I wish I was with them again
As boys in their boats call to girls on the shore
Teasing the one that they dearly adore
And into the evening the courting begins
I wish I was with them again
Can you imagine a piece of the universe
More fit for princes and kings?
I’ll trade you ten of your cities
For Marion Bridge and the pleasure it brings
Out on the Mira on soft summer nights
Bonfires blaze to the children’s delight
They dance ’round the flames singing songs with their friends
I wish I was with them again
And over the ashes, the stories are told
Of witches and werewolves and Oak Island gold
Stars on the river, they sparkle and spin
I wish I was with them again
Can you imagine a piece of the universe
More fit for princes and kings?
I’ll trade you ten of your cities
For Marion Bridge and the pleasure it brings
Out on the Mira the people are kind
They treat you to home-brew and help you unwind
And if you come broken, they’ll see that you mend
I wish I was with them again
Now I’ll conclude with a “wish you go well”
Sweet be your dreams, and your happiness swell
I’ll leave you here, for my journey begins
I’m going to be with them again
I’m going to be with them again
Cat’s in the Cradle
Sung by George Donaldson.
My child arrived just the other day
Came into the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talkin’ ‘fore I knew it, and as he grew
He’d say “I’m gonna be like you, Dad
You know I’m gonna be like you.”
Well, the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little Boy Blue and the Man in the Moon
“When you comin’ home, Dad?”
“I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then, son.
You know we’ll have a good time then.”
My son turned ten just the other day
He said, “Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on, let’s play.
Can you teach me to throw?” I said, “Not today
I got a lot to do”, he said, “That’s ok.”
And he walked away but his smile never dimmed
And said, “I’m gonna be like him, yeah.
You know I’m gonna be like him.”
And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little Boy Blue and the Man in the Moon
“When you comin’ home, Dad?”
“I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then, son.
You know we’ll have a good time then.”
Well, he came from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say
“Son, I’m proud of you. Can you sit for a while?”
He shook his head and said with a smile,
“What I’d really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys.
See you later. Can I have them please?”
Well, the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little Boy Blue and the Man in the Moon
“When you comin’ home, son?”
“I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then, Dad.
You know we’ll have a good time then.”
Well, I’ve long since retired; my son’s moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, “I’d like to see you if you don’t mind.”
He said, “I’d love to, Dad, if I can find the time.
You see, my new job’s a hassle and the kids have the flu
But it’s sure nice talking to you, Dad.
It’s been sure nice talking to you.”
And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me
He’d grown up just like me
My boy was just like me
Well, the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little Boy Blue and the Man on the Moon
“When you comin’ home, son?”
“I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then, Dad.
You know we’ll have a good time then.”
Scorn Not His Simplicity
Sung by George Donaldson.
See the child
With the golden hair
Yet eyes that show the emptiness inside
Do we know
Can we understand just how he feels
Or have we really tried
See him now
As he stands alone
And watches children play a children’s game
Simple child
He looks almost like the others
Yet they know he’s not the same
Scorn not his simplicity
But rather try to love him all the more
Scorn not his simplicity
Oh no
Oh no
See him stare
Not recognizing the kind face
That only yesterday he loved
The loving face
Of a mother who can’t understand
What she’s been guilty of
How she cried, tears of happiness
The day the doctor told her it’s a boy
Now she cries tears of helplessness
And thinks of all the things he can’t enjoy
Scorn not his simplicity
But rather try to love him all the more
Scorn not his simplicity
Oh no
Oh no
Only he knows how to face the future hopefully
Surrounded by despair
He won’t ask for your pity or your sympathy
But surely you must care
Scorn not his simplicity
But rather try to love him all the more
Scorn not his simplicity
Oh no
Oh no
Oh no
Dúlamán
Sung by Ryan Kelly, Keith Harkin, Neil Byrne, George Donaldson, Emmet Cahill, and Daniel Furlong.
A ‘níon mhín ó, sin anall na fir shúirí
A mháithairin mhín ó, cuir na roithléan go dtí mé
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na binne buí
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na farraige
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Rachaimid me chun Niúir leis an dúlamán
Gaelach ceannóimid bróga daora ar an dúlamán Gaelach
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na binne buí
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na farraige
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Bróga breaca dubha ar an dúlamán
Gaelach bearéad agus triús ar an dúlamán Gaelach
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na binne buí
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na farraige
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán na binne buí
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán na binne buí
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na binne buí
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na farraige
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán na binne buí
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
A ‘níon mhín ó, sin anall na fir shúirí
A mháithairin mhín ó, cuir na roithléan go dtí mé
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na binne buí
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na farraige
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Tá ceann buí óir ar an dúlamán Gaelach
Tá dhá chluais mhaol ar an dúlamán maorach
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na binne buí
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na farraige
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na binne buí
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán, dúlamán, dúlamán na farraige
Dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán na binne buí Gaelach
TRANSLATION:
Oh, gentle daughter, here come the wooing men
Oh, gentle mother, put the wheels in motion for me
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the yellow cliff
Seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the ocean
Seaweed from Ireland
I would go to Niúir with the Irish seaweed
“I would buy expensive shoes,” said the Irish seaweed
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the yellow cliff
Seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the ocean
Seaweed from Ireland
The Irish seaweed has beautiful black shoes
The stately seaweed has a beret and trousers
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the yellow cliff
Seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the ocean
Seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed from the yellow cliff
Seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed from the yellow cliff
Seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the yellow cliff
Seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the ocean
Seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed from the yellow cliff
Seaweed from Ireland
Oh, gentle daughter, here come the wooing men
Oh, gentle mother, put the wheels in motion for me
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the yellow cliff
Seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the ocean
Seaweed from Ireland
There is a yellow gold head on the Gaelic seaweed
There are two blunt ears on the stately seaweed
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the yellow cliff
Seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the ocean
Seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed from the yellow cliff, seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed from the yellow cliff, seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the yellow cliff
Seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed, seaweed, seaweed from the ocean
Seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed from the yellow cliff, seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed from the yellow cliff, seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed from the yellow cliff, seaweed from Ireland
Seaweed from the yellow cliff, seaweed from Ireland
Girls, Girls, Girls
Sung by George Donaldson, Emmet Cahill, Keith Harkin, and Neil Byrne.
Girls, girls, girls
Girls, girls, girls
Girls, girls, girls
Girls, girls, girls
Well, yellow, red, black or white
Add a little bit of moonlight
For this intercontinental romance
Shy girls, sexy girls
they all like that fancy world
Champagne, a gentle song, a slow dance
Who makes it fun to spend your money?
Who calls you honey most every day?
Girls, girls, girls
Girls, girls, girls
Well, they made ’em up in Hollywood
And put ’em into the movies
Those lovely photographic splendors
In and out of magazines
Miss World and beauty queens
Falling in love with the real big spenders.
But although their world may be frantic
They’re still romantic in their own way
So hop on, the world is swinging
Don’t sit and twiddle your thumbs
Get up and meet those pretty girls, girls, girls
Step on, the world keeps swinging
Put on the dazzling charm
Get up and find those pretty girls!
Don’t rush, keep it nice and gentle
And sentimental for that certain moment
Moonlit oceans, girls full of emotions
Stepping on that slow boat to China
And next door in Japan, they know how to please a man
Calling in for tea with my geisha
They’ve got that old-fashioned feeling
When it comes to pleasing, they know their way
So hop on, the world is swinging
Don’t sit and twiddle your thumbs
Get up and meet those pretty girls, girls, girls
Step on, the world keeps swinging
Put on the dazzling charm
Get up and find those pretty girls!
Don’t rush, keep it nice and gentle
And sentimental for that certain moment when you draw back the curtain
So hop on, the world is swinging
Don’t sit and twiddle your thumbs
Get up and meet those pretty girls
Ooh, forever
Girls, girls, girls
Girls, girls, girls
Girls, girls, girls, girls, girls
Maid of Culmore
Sung by Keith Harkin, Neil Byrne, George Donaldson, Ryan Kelly and Emmet Cahill.
Leaving sweet lovely Derry for fair London town
There is no finer harbor all around can be found
Where the youngsters, each evening, go down to the shore
And the joy bells are ringing for the maid of Culmore
The first time I saw her, she passed me by
And the next time I saw her, she bid me goodbye
But the last time I saw her, it grieved my heart sore
For she sailed down Loch Foyle and away from Culmore
If I had the power: the storms for to rise
I would make the wind blow out and I’d darken the skies
I’d make the wind blow high and the salt seas to roar
‘Til the day that my darling sailed away from Culmore
To the back parts of America, my love, I’ll go seek
For it’s there I know no one and no one knows me
But if I don’t find her, I’ll return home no more
Like a pilgrim I’ll wander for the maid of Culmore
Clancy Medley
Sung by Damian McGinty, Emmet Cahill, Keith Harkin, Ryan Kelly, George Donaldson, and Neil Byrne. QVC exclusive track.
Blend of 4 songs: “I’ll Tell Me Ma”, “Muirsheen Durkin”, “Courtin’ in the Kitchen” and “The Holy Ground”.
I’ll tell me ma when I get home
The boys won’t leave the girls alone
Pulled my hair and stole my comb
But that’s alright ’til I get home
She is handsome, she is pretty
She is the belle of Belfast City
She is a courtin’, 1-2-3
Please, won’t you tell me who is she?
Let the wind and the rain and the hail go high
The snow come tumblin’ from the sky
She’s as nice as apple pie
And she’ll get her own lad by and by
When she gets a lad of her own
She won’t tell her ma when she gets home
Let them all come as they will
For it’s Albert Mooney she loves still
In the days I went a-courtin’
I was never tired resortin’
To the alehouse or the playhouse
Or many’s a house beside
I told my brother Seamus
I’ll go off and be right famous
And before I return again
I’d roam the world wide. So!
Goodbye, Muirsheen Durkin, I’m sick and tired of workin’
No more I’ll dig the praties, no longer I’ll be fooled
As sure as me name is Carney, I’ll go off to Californee
And instead of digging praties, I’ll be digging lumps of gold
Come, single belle or beau
Unto me pay attention
Don’t ever fall in love
For it’s the devil’s own invention
For once I fell in love
With a maiden so bewitchin’
Miss Henrietta Bell
Out in Captain Kelly’s kitchen
With me toora loora la
And me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la
And me toora loora laddie
Let Sunday be the day
We were to have the flare-up
I dressed meself quite gay
And frizzed and oiled me hair up
The Captain had no wife
And he had gone a-fishin’
And we kicked up high life
Down below stairs in the kitchen
With me toora loora la
And me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la
And me toora loora laddie
Fare thee well, my lovely Dinah
A thousand times adieu
For we’re going away to the holy ground
And the girls we all love true
We will sail the soft seas over
And then return for shore
And still I live in hope to see
The holy ground once more
Fine girl ye are!
Now when we’re out a-sailin’
And you are far behind
Fine letters will I write to you
With the secrets of my mind
The secrets of my mind, my girl
You’re the girl I do adore
And still I live in hope to see
The holy ground once more
Fine girl ye are!
You’re the girl I do adore
And still I live in hope to see
The holy ground once more
Fine girl ye are!
Irish Blessing
Spoken by Paul Byrom, Damian McGinty, Ryan Kelly, Neil Byrne, Keith Harkin and George Donaldson. PBS exclusive track.
May the blessing of light be upon you: light on the outside and light on the inside.
With God’s sunlight shining on you, may your heart glow with warmth like a turf fire that welcomes friends and strangers alike.
May the light of the Lord shine from your eyes like a candle in the window, welcoming the weary traveler.
May the blessing of God’s soft rain be on you, falling gently on your head, refreshing your soul with the sweetness of little flowers newly blooming.
May the strength of the winds of Heaven bless you, carrying the rain to wash your spirit clean, sparkling after in the sunlight.
May the blessing of God’s earth be on you and, as you walk the roads, may you always have a kind word for those you meet.
May you understand the strength and power of God in a thunderstorm in winter, the quiet beauty of creation, and the calm of a summer sunset.
And may you come to realize that, insignificant as you may seem in this great universe, you are an important part of God’s plan.
May He watch over you and keep you safe from harm.
Celtic Thunder Lyrics 