Thurles Information

The Old Bog Road.

Lyrics: Irish republican and poet, the late Teresa Brayton (1868–1943), born Teresa Coca Boylan, pen name T.B. Kilbrook.
Vocals: Irish singer and entertainer of the country and Irish genre Johnny McEvoy.

The song “The Old Bog Road” is one of those great Irish songs that carries a whole life inside it. The song is written about the longing of someone far from Ireland, thinking back to the place, the people, and the simple road that once meant everything to them.
“The Old Bog Road,” is often thought of as an emigrant’s song, the story of someone far away, longing for home. But that same feeling can sometimes come over elderly people who never crossed an ocean at all; people who left the quiet of the countryside for work in the noise and bustle of a large town/city, and found that something inside them still longed for the fields, the lanes and the old familiar roads.
Anglo-Irish poet Oliver Goldsmith also captured that same feeling beautifully in his poem ‘The Deserted Village’ when he wrote:

“And, as an hare whom hounds and horns pursue,
Pants to the place from whence at first she flew,
I still had hopes, my long vexations past,
Here to return, and die at home at last.”

Same is a powerful image of the heart being driven through life, yet still turning back towards home. And that is the feeling singer Johnny McEvoy brings so tenderly to “The Old Bog Road”; that ache for a place that may be behind us, but is never really gone from us, as I experienced on a visit to Wexford last weekend.

The Old Bog Road.

The Old Bog Road.

My feet are here on Broadway,
This blessed harvest morn,
But oh! the ache that’s in them,
For the place where I was born.
My weary hands are blistered,
From working cold and heat,
But oh! to swing a scythe again,
In a field of Irish wheat.
Had I the chance to journey back,
Or own a king’s abode.
I’d rather see the hawthorn tree,
And the Old Bog Road.

My mother died last Spring time,
When Ireland’s fields were green.
The neighbours said her waking,
Was the finest ever seen.
There were snowdrops and primroses,
Piled high beside her bed,
And Ferran’s Church was crowded,
When her funeral Mass was read.
But here was I on Broadway,
Just building bricks by load,
When they carried out her coffin,
Down the Old Bog Road.

Now life’s a weary puzzle,
Past finding out by man,
I take the day for what it’s worth,
And do the best I can.
Since no one cares a rush for me,
What need for me to mourn.
I’ll go my way and draw my pay,
And smoke my pipe alone.
Each human heart must know its grief,
Though bitter be the load.
So God be with you, Ireland,
And the Old Bog Road.

END.

The Cold Hard Truth.

Lyrics: Acclaimed American country music singer-songwriter and guitarist, the late Jamie O’Hara (1950–2021).
Vocals: American country musician, singer, and songwriter, the late George Jones (1931–2013).

Singer George Jones had a way of taking heartbreak and making it sound like a confession. In 1999, on his late-career album “Cold Hard Truth”, he proved that nobody could still cut straight to the bone quite like “The Possum.” Written by Jamie O’Hara, “The Cold Hard Truth” is country music at its most honest: no polish, no excuses, just the painful moment when love and reality finally meet.

The Cold Hard Truth.

The Cold Hard Truth.

You don’t know who I am,
But I know all about you.
I’ve come to talk to you tonight,
About the things I’ve seen you do.
I’ve come to set the record straight.
I’ve come to shine the light on you.
Let me introduce myself,
I am the cold hard truth.
There is a woman we both know,
I think you know the one I mean.
She gave her heart and soul to you.
You gave her only broken dreams.
You say your not the one to blame,
For all the heartaches she’s been though.
I say you’re nothing but a liar,
And I’m the cold hard truth.
All your life that’s how it’s been,
Lookin’ out for number one,
Takin’ more than you give,
Moving on when you’re done.
With her you could have had it all,
A family and love to last,
If you had any sense at all,
You’d go and beg her to come back.
You think that you’re a real man,
But you’re nothing but a fool,
The way you run away from love,
The way you try to play it cool.
I’m gonna say this just one time,
Time is running out on you,
You best remember me my friend,
I am the cold hard truth.
You best remember me my friend,
I am the cold hard truth.

End.