Lyrics and Vocals: American singer-songwriter Bob Dylan.
It Ain’t Me Babe.
Bob Dylan.
Go away from my window, Leave at your own chosen speed. I’m not the one you want, babe, I’m not the one you need. You say you’re lookin’ for someone, Who’s never weak but always strong, To protect you and defend you, Whether you are right or wrong, Someone to open each and every door, But it ain’t me, babe, No, no, no, it ain’t me, babe, It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for, babe.
Go lightly from the ledge, babe, Go lightly on the ground, I’m not the one you want, babe, I’ll only let you down. You say you’re looking for someone, Who will promise never to part, Someone to close his eyes for you, Someone to close his heart, Someone who will die for you and more, But it ain’t me, babe, No, no, no, it ain’t me babe, It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for, babe.
Go melt back in the night. Everything inside is made of stone, There’s nothing in here moving, And anyway I’m not alone. You say you’re looking for someone, Who’ll pick you up each time you fall, To gather flowers constantly, And to come each time you call, A lover for your life and nothing more, But it ain’t me, babe, No, no, no, it ain’t me, babe, It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for, babe.
Lyric:American singer-songwriter Blaze Foley. Vocals:American actor, country singer and songwriter Luke Grimes.
Clay Pigeons.
I’m going down to the Greyhound station, Gonna get a ticket to ride. Gonna find that lady with two or three kids, And sit down by her side. Ride till the sun comes up and down around me about two or three times, Smoking cigarettes in the last seat, Trying to hide my sorrow from the people I meet, And get along with it all. Go down where people say y’all, Sing a song with a friend. Change the shape that I’m in, And get back in the game, And start praying again.
Luke Grimes.
I’d like to stay but I might have to go to start over again. I might go back down to Texas. I might go somewhere that I never been, And get up in the morning and go out at night, And I won’t have to go home. Get used to being alone. Change the words to this song, And start singing again.
I’m tired of running round, Looking for answers to questions that I already know. I could build me a castle of memories, Just to have somewhere to go. Count the days and the nights that it takes, To get back in the saddle again. Feed the pigeons some clay. Turn the night into day. And start talking again when I know what to say.
I’m going down to the Greyhound station, Gonna get a ticket to ride. Gonna find that lady with two or three kids, And sit down by her side, Ride till the sun comes up and down around me about two or three times. Smoking cigarettes in the last seat, Trying to hide my sorrow from the people I meet, And get along with it all, Go down where people say y’all. Feed the pigeons some clay. Turn the night into day. Start talking again when I know what to say.
Lyrics: The late American singer-songwriter and acoustic artists John Denver, (1943-1997). Vocals: The magnificent voice of American country singer and songwriter Patricia Lynn Yearwood.
Trisha Yearwood
Back Home Again.
There’s a storm across the valley, clouds are rolling in, The afternoon is heavy on your shoulders. There’s a truck out on the four lane a mile or more away, The whining of his wheels just makes it colder. He’s an hour away from riding on your prayers up in the sky, And ten days on the road are barely gone. There’s a fire softly burning, supper’s on the stove, But it’s the light in your eyes that makes him warm. And hey it’s good to be back home again. Sometimes this old farm feels like a long-lost friend, Yes ‘n’ hey, it’s good to be back home again. There’s all the news to tell him, how’d you spend your time, What’s the latest news the neighbours say. And your mother called last Friday, sunshine made her cry. You felt the baby move just yesterday. Hey it’s good to be back home again. Sometimes this old farm feels like a long-lost friend, Yes ‘n’ hey, it’s good to be back home again. And oh the time that I can lay this tired old body down, And feel your fingers feather soft upon me. The kisses that I live for, the love that lights my way, The happiness that living with you brings me, And it’s the sweetest thing I know of, just spending time with you. It’s the little things that make a house a home. Like a fire softly burning, supper on the stove And the light in your eyes that makes me warm. And hey it’s good to be back home again – yes it is. Sometimes this old farm feels like a long-lost friend, Yes ‘n’ hey, it’s good to be back home again. I said hey it’s good to be back home again.
Sonny Curtis, Celebrated Songwriter and Member Of ‘The Crickets, Passes Away Aged 88 years.
Sonny Curtis, acclaimed songwriter, guitarist, and long-time member of Buddy Holly’s band The Crickets, has passed away at the age of 88 years. His daughter, Sarah Curtis, confirmed his passing following a sudden illness. He was surrounded by family and passed peacefully.
Born in Texas, Curtis first performed with Buddy Holly in the mid-1950s, later joining ‘The Crickets’ in 1958, just shortly before Holly’s tragic death. As lead guitarist, and later lead singer, Curtis helped carry the band forward in the years that followed, leaving an indelible mark on American rock and country music.
Curtis’ songwriting career produced some of the most enduring hits of the era. Among his best-known works are “I Fought the Law,”“Walk Right Back,”“More Than I Can Say,” and “The Straight Life.” In 1970, Curtis recorded “Love Is All Around,” which went on to become the beloved theme song for ‘The Mary Tyler Moore Show‘, running for seven seasons and cementing his place in popular culture.
Throughout his career, Curtis’ contributions spanned genres and generations, influencing countless artists and resonating with audiences worldwide.
In ár gcroíthe go deo.
I’m No Stranger To The Rain.
Lyrics: Multi-award winning BMI songwriter Ron Hellard and the late American singer and songwriter Sonny Curtis(1937-2025) Vocals: American country music and bluegrass singer and songwriter the late Keith Whitley(1954-1989)
I’m No Stranger To The Rain.
I’m no stranger to the rain, I’m a friend of thunder, Friend, is it any wonder lightning strikes me? I’ve fought with the devil, Got down on his level, But I never gave in, so he gave up on me. I’m no stranger to the rain. I can spot bad weather, And I’m good at finding shelter in a downpour. I’ve been sacrificed by brothers, Crucified for lovers, But through it all, I withstood the pain. I’m no stranger to the rain. When I get that foggy feeling, The one I’m feeling now, If I don’t keep my head up, I may drown, But it’s hard to keep believing, I’ll even come out even, While the rain beats a hole in the ground, And tonight, it’s really coming down, I’m no stranger to the rain, But there’ll always be tomorrow, And I’ll beg, steal, or borrow a little sunshine, And I’ll put this cloud behind me, That’s how the man designed me, To ride the wind and dance in a hurricane, I’m no stranger to the rain. Oh, no, I’m no stranger to the rain.
A book, entitled “The Oldest Of Old Kriegies”, has now been published by Moycarkey-Borris, Littleton Men’s Shed History Group, under the guidence of Dr Pat McMahon.
The word “Kriegie”[pronounced kree-gee] is the German military slang for an Allied prisoner of war held in a German internment camp during World War II.
Local history researcher and member of Moycarkey-Borris Littleton History Group, Mr Michael Dempsey, now reports.
The new publication “The Oldest Of Old Kriegies”, is a well sourced publication which has researched, for the very first time and in greatest detail, the life of former Littleton, Thurles, Co. Tipperary resident Mr Lawerence (Larry) Slattery. Before coming to Littleton, Mr Slattery was born on February 28th 1913, some 35km away in Rossacrow, Donohill, Co. Tipperary, of parents Mary Ann (nee Moran) and Michael Slattery, both primary school teachers.
On September 4th 1939, Mr Slattery’s aircraft was shot down over the sea at Wilhemshaven, west of Hamburg, latter a coastal town in Lower Saxony, Germany, while attempting to bomb 4 warships.
Picked up from the sea Mr Slattery would go on to become the longest detained British P.O.W of the entire War; not being finally freed until Allied troops reached his prisoner-of-war camp (stalag) in April of 1945.
Moycarkey-Borris History Group Littleton (MBL) would like to thank the National Archives of Ireland, Military Archives of Ireland, University College Dublin (UCD) Archives, Rockwell College Archives, Lincoln University Digital Archives, British National Archives, Tipperary Studies (at Thurles Library), and family descendants, from whence this extensive research now featured in this publication was gleaned.
This new publication can be purchased from Book Worm Bookshop & Cafe,Thurles, The Horse & Jokey Hotel, from all retail shops in Littleton and directly from members of the Moycarkey-Borris, Littleton Men’s Shed, History Group. Mobile Phone:086-3648664.
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