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Author Topic: Lyrics For The Album After This One  (Read 13027 times)
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tinkerbell
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« on: January 20, 2007, 10:55:56 PM »

The (Nearly) True Story Of Forlorn Hope

Way back when in Portadown
Forlorn Hope came of age
Quit the convent, hit the town
With her dark head full of rage
She'd drink her brothers to the floor
And jig until she fell
And what she gave behind locked doors
Sure, only she would tell
So all the nuns beat into her
Came loose with her long black hair
As she lurched from corner to corner
Singing 'She Moved Through The Fair'

She says, If your name's on the bullet
Or your neck fits in the rope
It's your hole so go down and fill it
And they call her Forlorn Hope

And when the streets are dark with hate
And the wires set to destroy
She goes out in her Ford Estate
Running errands for the boys
But then the soldiers come to town
And search for the snout and the grass
And they seem to know what's going down
Where Hope's been known to pass
Here's a bottle of whiskey in the hand
And a guardsman in the bush
So keep your ear to the ground
My dear, and sing, sing like a thrush

She says, If your name's on the bullet etc.

Now time beds down with anger
And Hope keeps screwing hate
So she moves in with a dealer
On the edge of the hard estate
Here's a wrap to bring you up, cock
And a wrap to take you down
Let's go to the corner and throw some rocks
When the marchers cross the town
But secrets breed in fear
Till one day they're no more
So it's say farewell to Armagh, my dear,
The boys are at your door

She says etc

But all that's ancient history
Way back in Portadown
Now she's growing old disgracefully
In a room in Camden Town
And she'll still drink and reel
Till she falls and cracks her head
And if she needs some time to heal
You'll take her home to bed
But don't bother waking to tell her
You're not some kind of rogue
She's already half-way round the corner
Singing 'Boolavogue'

She says if you name's on the bullet
Or your neck fits in the rope
It's your hole so go down and fill it
And they call her Forlorn Hope
« Last Edit: January 21, 2007, 10:04:43 PM by tinkerbell » Logged
rosie
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« Reply #1 on: January 21, 2007, 05:10:21 PM »

I'd forgotten what your lyrics are like without the music!  So, for now, I'm struggling between a Fields of Ballyclare tune and murphy's wake - the latter seems to win out.  Looks great, Tink - but what's Boolavogue, please? 

 Kiss
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tinkerbell
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« Reply #2 on: January 21, 2007, 07:07:43 PM »

I'd forgotten what your lyrics are like without the music!  So, for now, I'm struggling between a Fields of Ballyclare tune and murphy's wake - the latter seems to win out.  Looks great, Tink - but what's Boolavogue, please? 

 Kiss

Ta!
Instrumental music: kind of violent cha cha riff - to the rhythm of Ihaventgotafuckenclue 1 2 chachacha - over a Breton-type tune between verses. Song air ripped off from the instrumental on Lie Down And Dream Of Ireland, rhythm and all changed etc.

Boolaavogue (Traditional)
At Boolavogue as the sun was setting
O'er the bright May meadows of Shelmalier
A rebel hand set the heather blazing
and brought the neighbours from far and near.

Then Father Murphy from old Kilcormack
Spurred up the rocks with a warning cry:
'Arm! Arm!' he cried, 'For I've come to lead you'
'for Ireland's freedom we'll fight or die'!

He led us on against the coming soldiers
And the cowardly yeomen we put to flight
'Twas at the Harrow the boys of Wexford
Showed Bookey's regiment how men could fight.

Look out for hirelings, King George of England
Search every kingdom where breathes a slave
For Father Murphy of County Wexford
Sweeps o'er the land like a mighty wave.

We took Camolin and Enniscorthy
And Wexford storming drove out our foes
'Twas at Slieve Coilte our pikes were reeking
With the crimson blood of the beaten Yeos.

At Tubberneering and Ballyellis
Full many a Hessian lay in his gore
Ah! Father Murphy had aid come over
The Green Flag floated from shore to shore!

At Vinegar Hill, o'er the pleasant Slaney
Our heros vainly stood back to back
and the Yeos at Tullow took Father Murphy
and burned his body upon a rack.

God grant you glory, brave Father Murphy
And open Heaven to all your men
The cause that called you may call tomorrow
In another fight for the Green again



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« Reply #3 on: January 21, 2007, 07:15:52 PM »

I'd forgotten what your lyrics are like without the music!  So, for now, I'm struggling between a Fields of Ballyclare tune and murphy's wake - the latter seems to win out.  Looks great, Tink - but what's Boolavogue, please? 

 Kiss

Ta!
Instrumental music: kind of violent cha cha riff - to the rhythm of Ihaventgotafuckenclue 1 2 chachacha - over a Breton-type tune between verses. Song air ripped off from the instrumental on Lie Down And Dream Of Ireland, rhythm and all changed etc.

Boolaavogue (Traditional)
At Boolavogue as the sun was setting
O'er the bright May meadows of Shelmalier
A rebel hand set the heather blazing
and brought the neighbours from far and near.

Then Father Murphy from old Kilcormack
Spurred up the rocks with a warning cry:
'Arm! Arm!' he cried, 'For I've come to lead you'
'for Ireland's freedom we'll fight or die'!

He led us on against the coming soldiers
And the cowardly yeomen we put to flight
'Twas at the Harrow the boys of Wexford
Showed Bookey's regiment how men could fight.

Look out for hirelings, King George of England
Search every kingdom where breathes a slave
For Father Murphy of County Wexford
Sweeps o'er the land like a mighty wave.

We took Camolin and Enniscorthy
And Wexford storming drove out our foes
'Twas at Slieve Coilte our pikes were reeking
With the crimson blood of the beaten Yeos.

At Tubberneering and Ballyellis
Full many a Hessian lay in his gore
Ah! Father Murphy had aid come over
The Green Flag floated from shore to shore!

At Vinegar Hill, o'er the pleasant Slaney
Our heros vainly stood back to back
and the Yeos at Tullow took Father Murphy
and burned his body upon a rack.

God grant you glory, brave Father Murphy
And open Heaven to all your men
The cause that called you may call tomorrow
In another fight for the Green again




not far from  vinegar Hill, nice lyrics Nick and thanks for sharing again.
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« Reply #4 on: January 21, 2007, 07:25:32 PM »

The (Nearly) True Story Of Forlorn Hope

As she lurched from corner to corner
Singing 'She Moved Through The Fair'

Oh, I love that song, although apparently it's about the Plague.
Forlorn Hope - brave lady - I love story-songs about real people.
Saw Martha and Martha's Dad at Windsor with Tim on mandolin and fiddle - Tim seems like such a nice, laid-back guy, he never seems to mind Martha teasing him laugh I'm sure he'll make a great asset to the album(s)
Looking forward to more lyrics Grin
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« Reply #5 on: January 21, 2007, 10:21:08 PM »

Cheers, all. Boolavogue written by PJ McCall, 1861-1919. Cracking song. Like The Valley Of Knockanure. Or loads of others. She Moved Through the Fair often butchered by over-arrangement.  The Margaret Barry version always the best. Makes your hair stand up.
Tim Cotterell's a bloody saint. Not for putting up with MT's teasing, but for all the unpaid work he's put in for us this year. Suppose he is one of us now. At least without him, Goodbye To The Madhouse wouldn't have happened. (He's going to do the next one and all.)  Recording some Charlie bits on Wednesday somewhere in the Metway, female vocals (not Martha, I gather, but right for the record), and then mixing with Jeremy. Yet to finalise release details.  But on the move with that, too. Back to the grind then.


« Last Edit: May 14, 2007, 11:00:50 PM by tinkerbell » Logged
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« Reply #6 on: January 22, 2007, 05:12:27 PM »

Quite a fast one i'd say, "Party to the process" type of beat maybe???
Another real life character from War without Honour - just started reading it again!!!
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"And the fiddler stands at the crossroads
while the horseman passes by
and dancers reel by moonlight
through the field in my mind's eye"
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« Reply #7 on: January 22, 2007, 10:12:33 PM »

Quite a fast one i'd say, "Party to the process" type of beat maybe???
Another real life character from War without Honour - just started reading it again!!!

Always forget you know it all!

This one's a real life character as well. Kind of sister, at the other end of things, to FH...

                            ALL THAT FALL           
It's not so long ago since the frost lay on the verge
And you were lying in your marriage bed
But this dark edge of solitude is safer than the rage
Of a man who drives in winter with the storms in his head
You took his hand, you played his tune and danced for you believed
He had the kind of strength your sons would need
But you look back in anger now and see you were deceived
You were only dealing with the reaper and his blade

Oh all that fall, all that fall, all that fall can rise
You see it with your own eyes, you see it with your own eyes
You see it with your own eyes, my dear

Spring's harder to remember, it's been a long long time
Since you were free to drift, and free to stray
All across the city till those exiles knew your name
Quick-fingered men who taught you how to play
So you were the handsome cabin boy whose hair lay in a curl
Blowing through those reeds and getting laid
But you look back in pity now and see the lonesome girl
Only serving the needs of the reaper and his blade

All that fall etc

It's those summer days in Mayo you know you can't forget
The hardfaced farmer in the shade behind the stack
And each time he took care of you without shame or regret
A half-clothed child with your head in a sack
It's the furrow that he ploughed there that's driven through the years
A scar all these seasons took to fade
But you look back in sorrow now, through warm clear tears
And you see that no one reasons with the reaper and his blade

All that fall etc

Now leaves drift gently across this fallow field
Over the dry bed and the worn reed
And if a stranger comes this way then maybe you will yield
But only if he takes the line you lead
So you're sitting in the lamplight now singing 'Black Is The Colour'
As you lay your own daughter to bed
And you look back in hope now, not in anger
For you see you've grown clear of the reaper and his blade

All that fall, all that fall, all that fall can rise
You see it with your own eyes, you see it with your own eyes
You see it with your own eyes, my dear
« Last Edit: January 22, 2007, 10:29:53 PM by tinkerbell » Logged
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« Reply #8 on: January 25, 2007, 05:15:55 PM »


Always forget you know it all!

Well not quite, 'cause i still can't figure out how to get this anorak off!!!!

All That Fall lyrics sounds great - mid-paced gentle type of tune, similar to Taking It On?Huh

Keep 'em coming Mr. B.
« Last Edit: January 25, 2007, 07:50:07 PM by Sid » Logged

"And the fiddler stands at the crossroads
while the horseman passes by
and dancers reel by moonlight
through the field in my mind's eye"
tinkerbell
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« Reply #9 on: January 29, 2007, 10:17:17 PM »

                       BESIEGED
So you step out of your childhood into this state of war
And set to building castles in your head
Then you take off on the long road like some kind of troubadour
Seeking refuge in each lover's bed
But those grim-faced forces on the march keep storming through your dreams
And you're somehow never out of reach of their catapults and siege machines

And you tremble when you hear those dark wheels turn
The stone within you crumbles and the beams you lean on burn
Besieged

Here comes the milk-skinned German girl who gives you meat and wine
And vows to shield you from the wilderness
Her father's a caretaker in this castle on the Rhine
And you learn to yield there to her tenderness
So you're holed up in a turret where the hawk soars round the wall
Then you see the bolt pierce his breast and watch him fall and fall and fall

You tremble...

St Honorat, by the monastery walls, under the moonlit skies
You're held fast by a French lass, your face between her thighs
But later when she's sleeping you're in some ruined tower
Hollering out to Jesus to raise you with his holy power
You meet this monk next evening and say, tell me how to pray-
If I need to tell you that, my son, this isn't going to be your way

And you tremble...

And what of this redhaired Irish woman you come to call your wife
Drinking hard and laughing in a tenement by the sea
She helps you heal, she gives you children, dreams you're hers for life
But what's burrowing beneath the walls you know she cannot see
Nights you're out marauding for the enemy within
Addict to that rise and fall, call it sickness, call it sin

You tremble...

So you're hiding out in this fisherman's cottage well-armed and alone
Just some Blake prints on the walls, Aqua Libra and a telephone
Your children will be coming soon and you'll walk down to the strand
Talk the way only you talk and build castles in the sand
But there's another siege laying in, you can see it on the rise
Whether you sink or whether you swim, the storm's already in your eyes

And you tremble when you hear those dark wheels turn
The stone within you crumbles and the beams you lean on burn
Besieged...
« Last Edit: January 30, 2007, 11:04:13 AM by tinkerbell » Logged
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« Reply #10 on: January 30, 2007, 08:56:41 AM »

bloody hell, nick, that's incredible.  I'll have to think about it a while.

The blake prints/aqua libra/ telephone thing made me smile, but it's a bit grim all round, innit?  Is this how you feel, sometimes?

all the best  Kiss
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« Reply #11 on: January 30, 2007, 11:09:19 AM »

Sometimes?!?
Thanks, Rosie. It'll be done to a Waterboys-type tune with a lilting fiddle dance woven in - bit like River - so the grimness is offset, I hope, as it should be. Stopped a big Welsh rugby player in his tracks in the pub the other day, so I think it works!
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« Reply #12 on: January 30, 2007, 12:30:43 PM »

Sometimes?!?
Stopped a big Welsh rugby player in his tracks in the pub the other day, so I think it works!

works better than the england squad by the sound of it, they can't stop a bus Roll Eyes
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« Reply #13 on: January 30, 2007, 10:08:00 PM »

Sometimes?!?
Stopped a big Welsh rugby player in his tracks in the pub the other day, so I think it works!

works better than the england squad by the sound of it, they can't stop a bus Roll Eyes

Yeah, we ended up talking about that.  No freedom of expression, that's their trouble!
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« Reply #14 on: January 31, 2007, 11:16:21 AM »

                       BESIEGED

Nights you're out marauding for the enemy within
Addict to that rise and fall, call it sickness, call it sin


Never found it helpful to label behaviour or thoughts as 'sin'!  I'm pretty much a Behaviorist me, or at least that approach seems to be the only one that achieves positive results...
Quote from: ex boyfriend
there's a good reason for everything
and if there's no cause there's a pill
Glad the grimness is offset!  I hope objective research continues and one day someone will find a cure (but will it rob us of many of our our musical geniuses?)  Smiley
« Last Edit: January 31, 2007, 11:19:05 AM by Dicey Riley » Logged

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