Lyrics: American musician, Hall of Fame songwriter, and music publishing executive, the late Fred Rose 1898 – 1954. Vocals: American country, pop and bluegrass singer, songwriter and guitarist Vince Grant Gill.
Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain.
In the twilight glow I see her, Blue eyes cryin’ in the rain. When we kissed goodbye and parted, I knew we’d never meet again.
Love is like a dyin’ ember, Only memories remain. Through the ages I’ll remember, Blue eyes cryin’ in the rain.
Some day when we meet up yonder, We’ll stroll hand in hand again. And in a land that knows no partin’, Blue eyes cryin’ in the rain.
Druminchin Hills Lie down flat you Druminchin Hills, For there’s damn-all for you to see, And there’s no one looks at your rushy sides, Or your mossy bottom down at Kelly’s Drain, And what sod you have can go to sleep. For hungry sheep would rather wait to die…..
Vocals: Irish folk band The Dubliners and Luke Kelly. Lyrics: Scotland born and Canada-based folksinger and songwriter Enoch Kent.
The Button Pusher.
I am the man, the well-fed man, in charge of the terrible knob. The most pleasing thing about it, it’s almost a permanent job. When the atom war is over, and the world is split in three, A consolation I got, well maybe it’s not, there’ll be nobody left but me.
I sit at me desk in Washington in charge of this great machine, More vicious than Adolf Hitler, more deadly than strychnine, And in the evening after a tiring day, just to give myself a laugh, I hit the button a playful belt and I listen for the blast.
Chorus: Well I am the man, the well-fed man, in charge of the terrible knob. The most pleasing thing about it, it’s almost a permanent job, When the atom war is over, and the world is split in three, A consolation I got, well maybe it’s not, there’ll be nobody left but me.
RepeatChorus: If Brezhnev starts his nonsense, and makes a nasty spell, With a wink and a nod from Nixon, I’ll blast them all to hell, And as for that Fidel Castro, him with the sugar cane, He needn’t hide behind his whiskers, I’ll get him just the same.
RepeatChorus: If me wife denies me con-jugular rights or my breakfast milk is sour, From eight to nine in the morning you’re in for a nervous hour. The button being so terribly close, it’s really a dreadful joke, A butt with my arse, as I go past, and we’ll all go up in smoke.
RepeatChorus: Now I’m thinking of joining the army, the army that bans the bomb. We’ll take up a large collection, and I’ll donate my thumb. For without it, I am helpless, and that’s the way to be. You don’t have to kill the whole bloody lot to make the people free.
Lyrics and Vocals: American rock singer, songwriter, and guitarist, nicknamed “The Boss”, the great Bruce Frederick Joseph Springsteen.
Across the Border.
Tonight, my bag is packed, tomorrow I’ll walk these tracks, That will lead me across the border. Tomorrow, my love and I will sleep beneath auburn skies, Somewhere across the border. We’ll leave behind, my dear, the pain and sadness we found here, And we’ll drink from the Bravo’s muddy waters, Where the sky grows gray and wide, we’ll meet on the other side, There across the border. For you, I’ll build a house high upon a grassy hill, Somewhere across the border. Where pain and memory, pain and memory have been stilled, There across the border. Sweet blossoms fill the air, pastures of gold and green, Roll down into cool, clear waters, And in your arms ‘neath open skies, I’ll kiss the sorrow from your eyes, There across the border. Tonight we’ll sing the songs and I’ll dream of you, my corazón☼, And tomorrow my heart will be strong. May the saints’ blessings and grace carry me safely into your arms, There across the border. For what are we without hope in our hearts, That someday we’ll drink from God’s blessed waters? And eat the fruit from the vine, I know love and fortune will be mine, Somewhere across the border.
END ☼“Corazón” in Spanish translates to “Sweetheart” or “My heart” in English.
Photograph taken exactly 100 years ago in 1924 in Southern Ireland.
“Think Of Others” Poem by Mahmoud Darwish.
As you prepare your breakfast — think of others. Don’t forget to feed the pigeons. As you conduct your wars — think of others. Don’t forget those who want peace. As you pay your water bill — think of others. Think of those who have only the clouds to drink from. As you go home, your own home — think of others — don’t forget those who live in tents. As you sleep and count the stars, think of others — there are people who have no place to sleep. As you liberate yourself with metaphors think of others — those who have lost their right to speak. And as you think of distant others — think of yourself and say, ‘I wish I were a candle in the darkness.’
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