1. |
Dear Dirty Dublin
04:27
|
|||
|
Dear Dirty Dublin
’Twas down be the markets I heard an ould song —
A balladeer’s voice, above the loud throng —
He sang of his city, a place I loved too!
It was ‘Dear Dirty Dublin’, and he made her look new.
I knew her great streets, her squalor, her people,
And each landmark place, each spire and each steeple;
The rain-sodden walls of each lost tenement —
Where food it was scarce, and the rent, mostly spent!
Chorus
“Ah! Me Dear Dirty Dublin” the balladeer sang,
While round the Ball Alley, Saint Michan’s bell rang
Its chimes to the streets by the green Liffey’s side —
His love for his city he just couldn’t hide.
There are places we love, and places we leave;
There are fond, happy times for which we might grieve,
And memory, she stores that bright gold in her chest,
The city, the home — the place you loved best.
Chorus
But no matter the distance, none I’ve loved more
Than the Liffey-side streets and her laughter, her lore,
The place of my childhood, my own native home —
Ah! Dublin, you’re nearer the further I roam.
I’ve rambled the world and seen the great places,
The wealth and the riches, all poverty’s faces;
And I thought of old Dublin, her broken-down charm,
Like a sweet Mott out strolling, her chap on her arm.
She’s Rosie of Moore Street, she’s Molly Malone,
She’s brave Rosie Hackett — all women I’ve known;
And here at this distance, I keep her in mind,
‘My Dear Dirty Dublin’, that I left behind.
Chorus
But no matter the distance, none I’ve loved more
Than the Liffey-side streets and her laughter, her lore,
The place of my childhood, my own native home —
Ah! Dublin, you’re nearer the further I roam.
— © Frank Callery, Monday, October 12th., 2020.
|
||||
2. |
The Planter’s Daughter
02:07
|
|||
|
The Planter's Daughter
When night stirred at sea,
And the fire brought a crowd in
They say that her beauty
Was music in mouth
And few in the candlelight
Thought her too proud,
For the house of the planter
Is known by the trees.
Chorus
Stars lit her breathing,
The hills of the ocean;
The gold of their light
A thread of her cloak
The choir on the black strand
The voice of her pleading,
No yolk without shells
No fire without smoke.
Men that had seen her
Drank deep and were silent,
The women were speaking
Wherever she went —
As a bell that is rung
Or a wonder told shyly
And O she was the Sunday
In every week.
—© Austin Clarke Estate/Frank Callery
|
||||
3. |
Laneways and Alleys
|
|
||
4. |
Myles Joyce of Mám Trasna — Maolra Seoighe
|
|
||
5. |
Pinochet Came from the Sea
|
|
||
6. |
Stardust
03:22
|
|||
|
Stardust
Each Sunday in the graveyard
Fresh flowers, with tears are wet,
For the precious ones they laid there,
The ones they can't forget.
And their prayers they fall like teardrops
In the scald of pain and grief
From that fire that took their young ones
With the cruel hand of a thief.
Chorus
They were young and they were beautiful,
They were handsome, they were wild:
A father's spitting image
A mother's mirrored child,
Whom they call in every moment —
Each loved, remembered name,
Who were lost to them that Valentine's
And no one yet to blame.
Time is endless for them,
The sad years go so slow,
They’re still searching for the answers
But no one seems to know.
For truth, and justice hidden,
No closure yet can flow
Till there’s Justice for the loved ones
They lost those years ago.
Chorus
They were young and they were beautiful,
They were handsome, they were wild:
A father's spitting image
A mother's mirrored child,
Whom they call in every moment —
Each loved, remembered name,
Who were lost to them that Valentine's
And no one yet to blame.
—© Frank Callery.
|
||||
7. |
Felipe Gómez Alonso
|
|
||
8. |
Liffeyside
|
|
||
9. |
Jemmy Gunnery
|
|
||
10. |
Behold Me Now
|
|
||
11. |
You Are the Light
|
|
||
12. |
I Will Go Down to the River
|
|
||
13. |
These Finite Days
03:28
|
|||
|
These Finite Days
Time will wait for no one, though we plead.
These finite days are what it gives, no more.
No plea, no tears will get it to concede
One minute past the closing of the door.
And though we’ve blessed, and loved each cherished friend;
There is no get-out clause, no late reprieve;
From those sudden moments that announce the end —
The sigh that says, I know, it’s time to leave.
Chorus
What was time to us, a moment in the wind
That blew across the page and turned it then,
The story cut — the dimming of the mind —
Sad memories that turn that page again.
And all we’ve done, accomplished, makes our name:
The little, or the much we had to share;
Time takes no regard, each one’s the same,
It does not judge, nor question, nor compare.
Chorus
What was time to us, a moment in the wind,
That blew across the page and turned it then;
The story cut — the dimming of the mind —
Sad memories that turn that page again.
So we say goodbye! So long, adieu!
For no one knows the destiny, the place?
We cherish still the loved ones that we knew,
Remember still the features of each face.
— © Frank Callery,
|
||||
Frank Callery Kilkenny, Ireland
Frank Callery is an award-winning songwriter, poet, editor, journalist and historian, who revels in the words and music of
his heritage and tradition. A Dubliner, he has lived in Co. Kilkenny for the past 25 years.
I have written hundreds of songs and arranged song settings of the works of W.B. Yeats, Winnifred Mary Letts, John M. Synge, Robin Flower (Bláithín), Eva Gore-Booth and Moira O'Neill.
... more
If you like Frank Callery, you may also like:
Sorry I'm So Sensitive
by Bea Stewart
The second EP from Northern Irish singer-songwriter Bea Stewart runs from gentle folk to pillowy pop ballads, all perfectly executed.
go to album
Michelle Stodart’s folk music captures hope in melancholy, addressing the transformational aspects of the most challenging times.
go to album
Veneer (20th Anniversary Deluxe Edition)
by José González
featured on Bandcamp Radio Aug 29, 2023
go to album
Once Upon A Time In Montréal
by Murray A. Lightburn
The folk artist explores grief through these smooth and soulful tracks.
go to album
Our Blood Is Red
by Luke James Williams
Emotive acoustic balladry from this UK musician with heart on sleeve and hushed arrangements.
go to album
Oakland singer-songwriter honors her Haitian heritage with five R&B spirituals overflowing with radiance, fueled by her soft, angelic voice.
go to album
The tender UK psych folk on “Continuum” explores motherhood through song.
go to album
