Thurles Information

Skin

Lyrics: Written by Doug Johnson and Joe Henry.

Vocals: Performed by American country music group ‘Rascal Flatts‘.

“Skin”

Sarah Beth is scared to death,
To hear what the doctor will say.
She hasn’t been well,
Since the day that she fell,
And the bruise, it just won’t go away.
So she sits and she waits, with her mother and dad,
And flips through an old magazine,
‘Til the nurse with a smile,
Stands at the door,
And says, ‘Will you please come with me?’
Sarah Beth is scared to death,
‘Cause the doctor just told her the news.
Between the red cells and white,
Something’s not right,
But we’re gonna take care of you.
Six chances in ten, it won’t come back again,
With the therapy we’re gonna try.
It’s just been approved,
It’s the strongest there is,
And I think we caught it in time.
Sarah Beth closes her eyes.
She dreams she’s dancing,
Around and around, without any care,
And her very first love is holding her close,
And the soft wind is blowing her hair.
Sarah Beth is scared to death,
As she sits, holding her mom.
It would be a mistake,
For someone to take,
A girl with no hair to the prom.
For just this morning, right there on her pillow,
Was the cruelest of any surprise,
And she cried when she gathered it all in her hands,
The proof that she couldn’t deny.
Sarah Beth closes her eyes.
And she dreams she’s dancing,
Around and around, without any care,
And her very first love was holding her close,
And the soft wind is blowing her hair.
It’s quarter on seven, that boy is at the door,
Her Daddy ushers him in.
When he takes off his cap, they all start to cry.
‘Cause this morning where his hair had been,
Softly, she touches just skin.
They go dancing,
Around and around, without any care,
And her very first true love is holding her close,
And for a moment, she isn’t scared.

END

Hot Asphalt

Vocals: The late Irish singer, folk musician and actor Luke Kelly (1940–1984) & Irish folk band The Dubliners.
Lyrics: The late folk singer, songwriter, folk song collector, labour activist and actor, James Henry Miller (Stage name Ewan Maccoll, 1915–1989).

Hot Asphalt

Ah good evening, all my jolly lads, I’m glad to find you well.
If you’ll gather all around me, now, the story I will tell,
For I’ve got a situation and begorrah and begob,
I can whisper I’ve the weekly wage of nineteen bob.
‘Tis twelve months come October since I left me native home,
After helping them Killarney boys to bring the harvest down,
But now I wear the gansey and around me waist a belt,
I’m the gaffer of the squad that makes the hot asphalt.

Chorus
Well, we laid it in the hollows and we laid it in the flat,
And if it doesn’t last forever, sure I swear, I’ll eat me hat.
Well, I’ve wandered up and down the world but sure I never felt,
Any surface that was equal to the hot asphalt.

The other night a copper comes and he says to me, “McGuire,
Would you kindly let me light me pipe down at your boiler fire?”
And he planks himself right down in front, with hobnails up, till late,
And says I, me decent man, you’d better go and find your bait.
He ups and yells, “I’m down on you, I’m up to all yer pranks,
Don’t I know you for a traitor from the Tipperary ranks?”
Boys, I hit straight from the shoulder and I gave him such a belt,
That I knocked him into the boiler full of hot asphalt.

Repeat Chorus

We quickly dragged him out again and we threw him in the tub,
And with soap and warm water we began to rub and scrub,
But devil the thing, it hardened and it turned him hard as stone,
And with every other rub, sure you could hear the copper groan.
“I’m thinking”, says O’Reilly, “that he’s lookin’ like old Nick,
And burn me if I am not inclined to claim him with me pick”.
“Now”, says I, “it would be easier to boil him till he melts,
And to stir him nice and easy in the hot asphalt“.

Repeat Chorus

You may talk about yer sailor lads, ballad singers and the rest,
Your shoemakers and your tailors, but we please the ladies best.
The only ones who know the way their flinty hearts to melt,
Are the lads around the boiler making hot asphalt.
With rubbing and with scrubbing, sure I caught me death of cold.
For scientific purposes, me body it was sold.
In the Kelvin grove museum, me boys, I’m hangin’ in me pelt,
As a monument to the Irish, making hot asphalt.

Repeat Chorus

END

It Must Have Been Love.

Songwriter: Per Hakan Gessle.
Vocals: Roxette singer, sadly the late Gun-Marie Fredriksson (1958–2019)

“Must have been love,
But it’s over now.“

Lay a whisper on my pillow.
Leave the winter on the ground.
I wake up lonely, this air of silence,
In the bedroom and all around.
Touch me now, I close my eyes,
And dream away.
It must have been love, but it’s over now.
It must have been good, but I lost it somehow.
It must have been love, but it’s over now,
From the moment we touched, ’til the time had run out
Make-believing we’re together,
That I’m sheltered by your heart,
But in and outside I turn to water,
Like a teardrop in your palm.
And it’s a hard winter’s day,
I dream away.
It must have been love, but it’s over now.
It was all that I wanted, now I’m living without.
It must have been love, but it’s over now.
It’s where the water flows.
It’s where the wind blows.
It must have been love, but it’s over now.
It must have been good, but I lost it somehow.
It must have been love, but it’s over now,
From the moment we touched, ’til the time had run out.
Yeah, it must have been love, but it’s over now.
It was all that I wanted, now I’m living without.
It must have been love, but it’s over now.
It’s where the water flows.
It’s where the wind blows,
but it’s over now,
No, no, no
(It must have been love)
(But it’s over now) but it’s over now
No, no, no

End.