1. |
||||
2. |
||||
3. |
||||
4. |
||||
Once I awoke with pleasure 'neath oak's dappled sun & golden leaf
I heard the horn a-blowing and the birdsong on the breeze
There was coney, deer and beaver fleeing pointer and retriever
But above the din of hunting was the music of the trees.
The winded fox he flew through the foggy mountain dew
Taking refuge in the forests and the verdant glens of yore
Now from this arboreal slaughter we must travail o'er the water
Oh for Seán Ó Duibhir a' Ghleanna, your pleasure is no more...
These lands of ours are plundered and our friends & neighbours sundered
Leaving those who'd fight for freedom underneath the bramble screen
The plight of our poor nation only stokes our desperation
As we see the decimation of our shelters gold & green
The wrath of god we brave as the priest flees to his cave
From those foes of ours who crave a sacrificial blood and gore
If peace comes but a small way I will journey down to Galway
Oh but Seán Ó Duibhir a' Ghleanna, your pleasure is no more...
Gone the home of childhood with the felling of the wildwood
And I've witnessed wanton ruining of all of my high hopes
When I my sleep was spurning I would watch the sun returning
And the autumn maples burning oh the jewels of woodland slopes
But the antlered noble stag banished to his mountain crag
Will stand as proud as ever when the days of man are o'er
And we so broken-hearted from the joys of nature parted
Oh for Seán Ó Duibhir a' Ghleanna, your pleasure is no more...
|
||||
5. |
||||
6. |
||||
7. |
||||
8. |
Rattlin' Roarin' Willie
01:13
|
|||
Oh rattlin' roarin' Willie, oh he hied to the fair
For to sell his fiddle and buy some other ware,
But parting with his fiddle a salt tear blin’t his e'ee—
Rattlin' roarin' Willie you’re welcome hame to me!
“O Willie, come sell your fiddle, and sell your fiddle so fine;
O Willie, come sell your fiddle and buy a pint o' wine!”
“If I should sell my fiddle the world would think I was mad;
For many's a rantin' day that my fiddle and I have had.”
As I came by Crochallan I cannily keekit ben
Rattlin' roarin' Willie was sitting at yon boord-en'
Sitting at yon boord-en' and among good company
Rattlin' roarin' Willie you’re welcome hame to me.
|
||||
9. |
The Drunken Sailor
04:20
|
|||
10. |
||||
11. |
||||
12. |
||||
13. |
||||
Sombre and sober I lie
And think on the spirit that scourges me
The fruit of my darkening eye
Has flown to wherever her urges lead
I long for the death of these dark days
Pass long lonely nights until the dawn
I long for her now and in all ways
Molly na gCuach Ní Chuilleanáin
Holed in my house on the hill
To awake to my cow's sighing every morn
What would I give for her still
Fair Molly na gCuach Ní Chuilleanáin
I long for the death of these dark days
Pass long lonely nights until the dawn
I long for her now and in all ways
Molly na gCuach Ní Chuilleanáin
Were I to go to my grave
These words would the stone at my head adorn
"He died as love's faithful slave
For Molly na gCuach Ní Chuilleanáin"
I long for the death of these dark days
Pass long lonely nights until the dawn
I long for her now and in all ways
Molly na gCuach Ní Chuilleanáin
|
||||
14. |
||||
15. |
Rowan Piggott Sheffield, UK
Rowan is a fiddle-singer, writer and tunesmith who grew up in the foothills of the Burren on the west coast of Ireland, surrounded by traditional music. The author of two successful tunebooks, he has also written articles for The Living Tradition magazine and led fiddle workshops at festivals all over the country. In 2016, he won the Future of Young Folk Award at Bromyard Folk Festival. ... more
Streaming and Download help
Rowan Piggott recommends:
If you like The Trip We Took Over The Mountain, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp