Lyrics: The Late American singer/songwriter John Townes Van Zandt(1944–1997). Vocals: The Late American country music singer/songwriter Don Williams(1939–2017).
I’ll Be Here In The Morning.
There’s no stronger wind than, The one that blows, Down a lonesome railroad line. No prettier sight than looking back, On a town you left behind. There is nothing that’s as real, As a love that’s in my mind. Close your eyes I’ll be here in the morning. Close your eyes I’ll be here for a while. There’s lots of things along the road, I’d surely like to see. I’d like to lean into the wind, And tell myself I’m free. But your softest whispers louder, Than the highways call to me. Close your eyes I’ll be here in the morning. Close your eyes I’ll be here for a while. All the mountains and the rivers, And the valleys can’t compare, To your blue lit dancing eyes, And yellow shining hair. I could never hit the open road, And leave you laying there. Close your eyes I’ll be here in the morning. Close your eyes I’ll be here for a while. Lay your head back easy, love, And close your crying eyes, I’ll be laying here beside you, When the sun comes on the rise. I’ll stay as long as the cuckoo wails, And the lonesome blue-jay cries. Close your eyes I’ll be here in the morning. Close your eyes I’ll be here for a while. Close your eyes I’ll be here in the morning. Close your eyes I’ll be here for a while.
A poem “The Drawer” by that great extoller of ‘words with rich rural feeling’, Seamus O’Rourke.
Based in rural Ireland, Seamus has become widely known for his simple storytelling, which captures rural Irish life in a way that both amuses and affects the reader and listener.
In September 2024, Seamus released his much anticipated sequel to his popular first memoir, Standing in Gaps. Leaning on Gates is published by Gill Books and is available nationwide in bookshops.
Lyrics: A humorous Irish folk song, written by Liverpudlian Anthony Murphy, about a man whose father was a Protestant (“Orange”) and whose mother was a Catholic (“Green”). It describes the man’s trials as the product of religious intermarriage and how “mixed up” he became, as a result of such an upbringing. Vocals: Irish folk singer and guitarist, Dublin born Paddy Reilly.
The Orange and the Green
Oh, me father was an Ulster man, proud Protestant was he. Me mother was a Catholic girl, from county Cork came she. They had married in two churches, lived happily enough, Until the day that I was born and things got rather rough. Oh, it is the biggest mix-up that you have ever seen. Me father, he was Orange and me mother, she was Green. Oh, Baptized by Father Riley, I got rushed away by car, To be made a little Orange man, me father’s shining star. I was christened “David Anthony”, but still, in spite of that, To me father, I was “William”, while my mother called me “Pat”. Oh, it is the biggest mix-up that you have ever seen. Me father, he was Orange and me mother, she was Green. Up to Mass every Sunday, with Ma I’d proudly stroll. And after that, the Orange lodge would try to save me soul. Well I’d go along with both of them for I was smartly called. I’d play me harp or play me flute, depending where I was. Oh, it is the biggest mix-up that you have ever seen. Me father, he was Orange and me mother, she was Green. Now, when I’d sing them rebel songs ‘twould fill my mother’s joy. My father he’d leap up and shout “Look here William me boy”, “That’s quite enough of that lot!”, he’d then toss’ me a coin, And have me thinking bally on the heroes of the Boyne. Oh, it is the biggest mix-up that you have ever seen. Me father, he was Orange and me mother, she was Green. Well they’ve both passed on, God rest ’em, and left me caught between, The awful colour problem of the Orange and the Green. Oh it is the biggest mix up that you have ever seen. Me father, he was Orange and me mother, she was Green. END
Vocals:English singer, presenter and actor Michael Ball. Lyrics:English lyricist, librettist and songwriter Charles Hart and English lyricist Don Black. Music:English composer and impresario of musical theatre Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Love Changes Everything.
Love, love changes everything, Hands and faces, earth and sky. Love, Love changes everything, How you live and how you die. Love can make the summer fly, Or a night seem like a lifetime. Yes, love, love changes everything, Now I tremble at your name Nothing in the world will ever be the same. Love, love changes everything, Days are longer, words mean more. Love, love changes everything, Pain is deeper than before. Love will turn your world around, And that world will last forever. Yes, love, love changes everything, Brings you glory, brings you shame, Nothing in the world will ever be the same. Off into the world we go, Planning futures, shaping years. Love bursts in, and suddenly, All our wisdom disappears. Love makes fools of everyone, All the rules we make are broken. Yes, love, love changes everything, Live or perish in its flame. Love will never, never let you be the same. Love will never, never let you be the same.
Love changes everything, Hands and faces, earth and sky. END.
Lyrics: American country music singer, songwriter and television host Bill Anderson and American producer, songwriter, and musician Jon Randall. Vocals: American producer, songwriter, and musician Brad Paisley and American bluegrass-country singer, fiddler and music producer Alison Krauss.
Whiskey Lullaby.
She put him out, Like the burning end of a midnight cigarette. She broke his heart. He spent his whole life trying to forget. We watched him drink his pain away, a little at a time, But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind, Until the night, He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger, And finally drank away her memory. Life is short but this time it was bigger, Than the strength he had to get up off his knees. We found him with his face down in the pillow, With a note that said “I’ll love her ’till I die”, And when we buried him beneath the willow, The angels sang a whiskey lullaby.
La la la la la la la…………
The rumours flew, But nobody knew how much she blamed herself, For years and years, She tried to hide the whiskey on her breath. She finally drank her pain away, a little at a time, But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind, Until the night, She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger, And finally drank away his memory. Life is short, but this time it was bigger, Then the strength she had to get up off her knees. They found her with her face down in the pillow, Clinging to his picture for dear life. They laid her next to him beneath the willow, While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby.
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