Distant Shore
(Billy Bragg)
Everyone knows that there’s no place like home
I’m just seeking refuge in a world full of storms
Washed up on a distant shore, can’t go home anymore

The natives are hostile whatever I say
The thing they fear most is I might want to stay
By their side on a different shore, can’t go home anymore

I escape my tormentors by crossing the sea
What I cannot escape is the memory
Washed up on a distant shore, can’t go home anymore

Everyone knows that there’s no place like home
I’m just seeking refuge in a world full of storms
Washed up on a distant shore, can’t go home anymore
Washed up on a distant shore, can’t go home anymore
Washed up on a distant shore, can’t go home anymore

Robbie Overson – Rickenbacker 12-String
Ewen Vernal – Electric Bass
James Mackintosh – Drums, Percussion
Donald Shaw – Accordion, Piano, Keyboard
James Grant – Acoustic Guitar
Michael McGoldrick – Low Whistle

top

Another Day

(Tim O Brien and Darell Scott)

This world is made from sweat and toil
Pushing muscle and elbow oil
We can’t lie too long in the shade
Because everyday must be remade

Some days we fall some days we fly
In the end we all must die
Our rotten flesh and broken bones
Will feed the ground that we call home
Will feed the ground that we call home

A new sprout grows from a fallen tree
This song will go on after me
So lift your heart and dry your eyes
It’s another day to live and die
It’s another day to live and die

Now I’ve run naked in the wild
Seen the beauty of a new born child
Like the alchemists of old
I’ve tried to spin my straw to gold

Most times a giver some times a thief
So full of hope but prone to grief
Between freedom and despair
I know the truth is lying there
I know the truth is lying there

A new sprout grows from a fallen tree
This song will go on after me
So lift your heart and dry your eyes
It’s another day to live and die
It’s another day to live and die

Go on now don’t you worry about me
You’ve miles to go and a world to see
My life’s been long and full and good
I’ve run this race the best I could

It’s a short time here and a long apart
The same song rings in both our hearts
So take this guitar when I’m gone
Write your rhymes and pass it on

A new sprout grows from a fallen tree
This song will go on after me
So lift your heart and dry your eyes
It’s another day to live and die
It’s another day to live and die

Dirk Powell – Banjo
Paul Meehan – Bouzouki
Tim O’Brien – Backing Vocals
Ewen Vernal – Double Bass
James Mackintosh – Drums
Donald Shaw – Accordion, Wurlitzer
Dezi Donnelly – Fiddle
Niall Vallely – Concertina
Cillian Vallely – Low Whistle

top

Song of Lies

(John Spillane/Louis dePaor)

And her mouth was as red
As the fresh fallen snow
The day she told me again
How another man’s love
Was as white as a raven’s
While mine was blacker than blood
How another man’s love
Was as white as a raven’s
While mine was blacker than blood

And I asked if she knew for sure
That the rain in her eyes
Would never run dry
Till the flames of the sun
Ran like ice in her veins
And froze the door to her heart
Till the flames of the sun
Ran like ice in her veins
And froze the door to her heart

And she told me the last time
As if for the first time
If the world turns away from the sun
Then nothing and never
Will always be true
And that she would forever be mine
Then nothing and never
Will always be true
And that she would forever be mine

And I swear that the sun
In her eyes turned to stone
Her dress was as white as the moon
The priest told me nothing
And no one was true
And that she would forever be mine
The priest told me nothing
And no one was true
And that she would forever be mine

Oh the blackened sole
Of her small bright shoe
Has left it’s mark
In the long white hall
Of my heart

Donald Shaw – Piano
Dezi Donnelly – Fiddle

top

The Curra Road

(Ger Wolfe)

In the summer we’ll go walking
Way down to the river down the Curra road
There’s a blue sky we’ll walk under
Listen to the humming bees and on we’ll go
We won’t worry about the traffic
Worry about the way to go
Worry about the phone
In the summer we’ll go walking
Way down to the river down the Curra road

Past the cattle at their grazing
Through the woods of hazel, holly, birch and oak
Past the robin on the gatepost
Singing to the bluebells, sunlight is their host
We won’t worry about the winter
Worry about it raining
Worry about the snow
In the summer we’ll go laughing
Way down to the river down the dusty road

There is music in the river
Listen to it dancing underneath the bridge
The wind is hardly breathing
Words onto the willow branches overhead
We won’t worry about the government
Worry about the way to go
Worry about the hay
In the summer we’ll go walking
Hand in hand together down the dusty way

Dirk Powell – banjo
Robbie Overson – Acoustic Guitar
Ewen Vernal – Double Bass
James Mackintosh – Drums
Donald Shaw – Accordion, Piano, Wurlitzer
Karen Matheson – Backing Vocals

top

The Ballad of Tim Evans

(Ewan McColl)

Tim Evans was a prisoner
Down in his prison cell
And those who read about his crimes
Condemned his soul to hell
Sayin', "Go down, you murderer, go down"

For the killing of his own dear wife
And the murder of his child
The jury found him guilty
The hangin' judge, he smiled
Sayin', "Go down, you murderer, go down"

They took Tim Evans from the dock
And they led him to his cell
They closed the door behind his back
Saying “damn your soul to hell”
Sayin', "Go down, you murderer, go down"

Tim Evans pleaded innocent
He swore by Him on high
He never killed his own dear wife
Nor caused his child to die
Sayin', "Go down, you murderer, go down"

Tim Evans walked around the yard
Some screws, they walked behind
He saw the sky above the wall
He knew no peace of mind
Sayin', "Go down, you murderer, go down"

The governor came to his cell
The chaplain by his side
Saying, "Your appeal has been turned down
Prepare yourself to die"
Sayin', "Go down, you murderer, go down"

They took Tim Evans to the place
Where the hangman did prepare
They tied a rope around his neck
With a knot behind his ear
Sayin', "Go down, you murderer, go down"

A thousand lads were screaming
And cursing at the doors
Tim Evans didn't hear them
He was deaf forever more
Sayin', "Go down, you murderer, go down"

They sent Tim Evans to the dock
For a crime he didn’t do
It’s Christy was the murderer
The judge and jury too
Sayin', "Go down you murderer go down"

Paul Meehan – Acoustic Guitar
Tim O’Brien – Backing Vocals, Mandolin
Ewen Vernal – Double Bass
Michael McGoldrick – Bodhran
Donald Shaw – Wurlitzer
Mel Mercier – Shaker
Niall Vallely – Concertina

top

Just a Note

(Matt McGinn)

Just a note for the time is short dear
Hard is the work and long the day
But my fond heart will be with you Mary
Although you are many many miles away

Kiss the children for me Mary
Do not let them pine or grieve
Tell them I will be working for them
How our home I had to leave

Building dams in the fields and the factories
Moving concrete by the load
Tell them I will be with you Mary
When I am finished working on the road

Just a note for the time is short dear
Hard is the work and long the day
But my fond heart will be with you Mary
Although you are many many miles away

Robbie Overson – Acoustic Guitar
Michael McGoldrick – Flute
Donald Shaw - Keyboard

top

Lord MacDonald's

(Trad. Arr. Karan Casey/Karen Matheson/Donald Shaw)

Tha smeorach 's a 'mhaduin chiuin
Binn ,binn a' ceileireadh;
Tha smeorach 's a 'mhaduin chiuin
Ge b'e co 'chluinneadh i

A Mhorag nighean Dhomhuill duinn
Tha thu cruinn sgiobalta
A Mhorag nighean Dhomhuill duinn,
Tha thu cruinn boidheach

Thug mi cion 'us cion 'us cion
Thug mi cion an uiridh dhuit,
Thug mi cion 'us cion 'us cion
'S bhuilichinn do phosadh

A Mhorag bheag nighean Dhomhuill ghibich,
Is ioma fear 'thug ribean duit;
A Mhorag bheag nighean Dhomhuill ghibich,
Is ioma fear tha'n toir ort.

Thug mi cion 'us cion 'us cion
Thug mi cion an uiridh dhuit,
Thug mi cion 'us cion 'us cion
'S bhuilichinn do phosadh

A Mhorag nighean Dhomhuill duinn
Tha thu cruinn sgiobalta
A Mhorag nighean Dhomhuill duinn,
Tha thu cruinn boidheach

Thug mi cion 'us cion 'us cion
Thug mi cion an uiridh dhuit,
Thug mi cion 'us cion 'us cion
'S bhuilichinn do phosadh

A Mhorag bheag nighean Dhomhuill uidhir
Thug mi cion an uiridh duit;
A Mhorag bheag nighean Dhomhuill uidhir
Bhuilichinn do phosadh

TRANSLATION
The thrush in the still morning
Sweetly, sweetly thrills
The thrush in the still morning
Whoever would hear her.
CHORUS
Morag daughter of dark Donald
You are full and tidy
Morag daughter of dark Donald
You are full and pleasing.

I gave you affection and affection and affection
I gave you affection last year
I gave you affection and affection and affection
And I’d love to marry you.

Little Morag daughter of untidy Donald
Many a man has given you a ribbon
Little Morag daughter of untidy Donald
Many a man desires you.

Little Morag daughter of dun Donald
I gave you affection last year
Little Morag daughter of dun Donald
I’d love to marry you.

Karen Matheson – Vocals
Signy Jacobson – Frame Drum
Ewen Vernal – Double Bass
James Mackintosh – Drums
Donald Shaw – Wurltizer, Accordion
Dezi Donnelly – Fiddle
Malcolm Stitt – Acoustic Guitar, Bouzouki

top

Quiet of the Night

(Karan Casey)

In the quiet of the night
I make up my dreams
And steal a bit of peace
To ease me through the day

In the quiet of the night
I make up my mind
I decide to stay strong
For the rest of the way

Something secret about me
Something I hold to myself
I love you in my heart
Because you let me be

In the quiet of the night
I keep it in mind
That your heart is as tender
As tender as a rose

In the quiet of the night
When the sky is laden with grief
I follow you heart
To the ends of the earth

Something secret about me
Something I hold to myself
I love you in my heart
Because you let me be

Robbie Overson – Acoustic Guitar
Ewen Vernal – Double Bass
Donald Shaw – Piano, Wurlitzer
Niall Vallely – Concertina

top

Bata is Bóthar (The Stick and the Road)

(John Spillane/Louis DePaor)

Ó chaitheas-sa seal i measc na bponcán
Ag codailt amuigh fé chrann mo dhóchais
Ag réabadh fallaí a thóg m’athair romham
Idir é is an doicheall i bhfuinneog a súl

‘Sea thugadar go fial dúinn a raibh acu le tabhairt
Bata is bóthar is fonn abhaile
‘Sea téir abhaile go h-ifreann
Is fan sa bhaile in Éirinn.

Is chuas ina dhiaidh sin go Londain groí
Mo dhá láimh liom is mé liom féin
Dá mbeinnse céad bliain ag doras Sheáin Bhuí
Ní bhfaighinn bheith istigh i ngar dá chroí

‘Sea thugadar go fial dúinn a raibh acu le tabhairt
Bata is bóthar is fonn abhaile
‘Sea téir abhaile go h-ifreann
Is fan sa bhaile in Éirinn.

Is bhíos ag a’ deireadh i ndeireadh an domhain
Ag luí béal faoi ibpoll an uaignis
Ag scríobadh na cré i dtrínse ró mhór
A bhí chomh cúng le huaigh mo linbh

‘Sea thugadar go fial dúinn a raibh acu le tabhairt
Bata is bóthar is fonn abhaile
‘Sea téir abhaile go h-ifreann
Is fan sa bhaile in Éirinn.

Is bhíos-sa lá i dtír na ndall
Ag iarraidh dídean ó racht na farraige
Ní bhfuaireas-sa ann ach airgead ag méileach
Is fliuchadh mo bhéil de mo dheora féin

‘Sea thugamar go fial dóibh a raibh againn le tabhairt
Bata is bóthar is fonn abhaile
‘Sea téir abhaile go h-ifreann
Is fan sa bhaile as Éirinn!

Translation
THE STICK AND THE ROAD
O I spent a time in the land of the yanks
Sleeping out under the tree of my hope
Tearing down walls my father had built before me
Between himself and the window of suspicion of their eyes

Yeah they gave us generously what they had to give
The stick and the road and the longing to go home
Yes go home to hell
And stay home in Ireland

And I went after that to greater London
My two hands hanging and me on my own
If I was a hundred years at the door of John Bull
I wouldn’t get in close to his heart

Yeah they gave us generously what they had to give
The stick and the road and the longing to go home
Yes go home to hell
And stay home in Ireland

And I was in the end at the end of the world
Lying face down in the pool of loneliness
Scratching at the clay in a trench too wide
That was as narrow as the grave of my child

Yeah they gave us generously what they had to give
The stick and the road and the longing to go home
Yes go home to hell
And stay home in Ireland

And one day I went to the land of the blind
Looking for shelter from the rage of the sea
All I found there was the bleating of money
And the wetting of my mouth from my own tears

Yeah they gave us generously what they had to give
The stick and the road and the longing to go home
Yes go home to hell
And stay home from Ireland

Robbie Overson – Acoustic Guitar
Ewen Vernal – Double Bass
James Mackintosh – Drums, Percussion
Michael McGoldrick – Bodhrán
Donald Shaw – Accordion, Wurlitzer
Dezi Donnelly – Fiddle
Mel Mercier – Berimbao

top

The Four Loom Weaver

(Trad. Arr. Karan Casey/Donald Shaw)

I'm a four loom weaver as many a man knows
I've nowt to eat and I've worn out my clothes
My clogs are both broken and stockings I've none
You’d hardly give me tuppence for all I've got on

Old Billy at Bent he kept telling me long
We might have better times if I'd but held my tongue
I holded my tongue till I near lost my breath
And I feel in my heart that I'II soon starve to death

I'm a four loom weaver as many a man knows
I've nowt to eat and I've worn out my clothes
My clogs are both broken and stockings I've none
You’d hardly give me tuppence for all I've got on

We held out for six weeks thought each day was the last
We tarried and shifted till now we’re quite fast
We lived upon nettles when nettles were good
And Waterloo Porridge was best of our food

I'm a four loom weaver as many a man knows
I've nowt to eat and I've worn out my clothes
My clogs are both broken and stockings I've none
You’d hardly give me tuppence for all I've got on

Our Margaret declares if she'd clothes to put on
She'd go up to London and see the great man
And if things didn't alter when there she had been
She swears she’ll fight with blood up to thine.

I'm a four loom weaver as many a man knows
I've nowt to eat and I've worn out my clothes
My clogs are both broken and stockings I've none
You’d hardly give me tuppence for all I've got on

I'm a four loom weaver as many a man knows.
I've nowt to eat and I've worn out my clothes
Stockings I’ve none and no looms to weave on
I’ve woven myself to the far end
I’ve woven myself to the far end

Paul Meehan – Acoustic Guitar
Donald Shaw – Piano
Mel Mercier – Bodhrán
Niall Vallely – Concertina
Cillian Vallely – Low Whistle

top

The Jute-Mill Song

(Mary Brookbank)
Oh dear me the mill runs fast
The poor wee shifters cannae get their rest
Shifting bobbins course and fine
They fairly make you work for your ten and nine

Oh dear me I wish the day was done
Running up and down the pass is no fun
Shifting, piecing, spinning warp, weft and twine
To feed and clothe your bairnes off a ten and nine

Oh dear me the mill runs fast
The poor wee shifters cannae get their rest
Shifting bobbins course and fine
They fairly make you work for your ten and nine

Oh dear me the world is ill divided
Them that works the hardest are the least provided
But I’m maun bide contented dark days are fine
There’s no much pleasure living off a ten and nine

Oh dear me the mill runs fast
The poor wee shifters cannae get their rest
Shifting bobbins course and fine
They fairly make you work for your ten and nine

Dirk Powell – Banjo
Donald Shaw – Accordion
Brendan Gleeson – Fiddle

top