Thurles Information

Hold My Hand.

Lyrics: M. Coleman
Singer: Liverpool native; English comedian; music hall entertainer; singer, and actor, the late, great Sir Kenneth Arthur Dodd. OBE. (1927 – 2018)

Hold My Hand.

Hello world of yesterday,
We’re looking out to find a way,
For the children.
With a happy song and a happy face,
We can make this world a better place,
For the children.
If all the nations join and sing,
The bells around the world will ring,
For the children.
And what we have we’d like to share,
And show you all that the children care,
For the children.
And when beaming out around the world,
To every other boy and girl
We’re holding hands and reaching out for all of you.
Hold my hand, hold it tight,
Hold my hand if you’re yellow, black or white,
Children of the world unite,
Keep the candle burning bright,
Hold my hand if your yellow, black or white.
Over the oceans nationwide,
You can always reach to the other side,
For the children.
We can send our love, we can send some smiles,
Send love and peace a thousand miles,
For the children.
We shall leave a guiding light,
And sing along into the night,
For the children.
What a wonderful place this world would stay,
If we all held hands each and every day,
Like the children.
And when singing out around the world,
To every other boy and girl,
We’re holding hands and reaching out for all of you.
Hold my hand, hold it tight,
Hold my hand if you’re yellow, black or white,
Children of the world unite,
See the candle burning bright,
Hold my hand if your yellow, black or white.
Hold my hand, hold it tight,
Hold my hand if you’re yellow, black or white,
Children of the world unite,
See your candle burning bright,
Hold my hand if your yellow, black or white.
Hold my hand if your yellow, black or white.

END.

Lyrics: American musician and Nobel Laureate Bob Dylan, originally written as a poem, in response to the Cuban Missile Crisis of October 22nd – November 20th, 1962, which saw confrontation between the United States and the Soviet Union. This confrontation quickly escalated into an international crisis, when American deployments of missiles in Italy and Turkey were matched by Soviet deployments of similar ballistic missiles in Cuba.
The song is characterized by symbolist imagery, which communicates suffering, pollution, and warfare, latter once again being threatened within our time living on this earth.

Vocals: American singer, songwriter, musician, and activist Joan Chandos Baez.

A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall.

Oh, where have you been, my blue eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains.
I’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways.
I’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forests.
I’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceans.
I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
And it’s hard, and it’s hard, it’s hard, and it’s hard,
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.
Oh, what did you see, my blue eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it.
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it.
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’.
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a bleedin’.
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken.
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children,
And it’s hard, and it’s hard, it’s hard, it’s hard,
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.
And what did you hear, my blue eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, is it roared out a warnin’.
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world.
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a blazin’.
I heard ten thousand whisperin’ and nobody listenin’.
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin’.
I heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter.
I heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,
And it’s hard, and it’s hard, it’s hard, it’s hard,
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.
And who did you meet, my blue eyed son?
Oh, who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony.
I met a white man who walked a black dog.
I met a young woman whose body was burning.
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow.
I met one man who was wounded in love.
I met another man who was wounded with hatred,
And it’s hard, it’s hard, it’s hard, it’s hard,
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.
Oh, what’ll you do now, my blue eyed son?
Oh, what’ll you do now, my darling young one?
Well, I’m a goin’ back out ‘fore the rain starts a fallin’.
Well, I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty.
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters.
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison.
Where the executioner’s face is always well hidden.
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten.
Where black is the color, and none is the number.
And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it,
And reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it,
And I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’.
But I’ll know my song well before I start singin’,
And it’s hard, it’s hard, it’s hard, it’s hard,
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.

END