Get all 22 Thom Dunn releases available on Bandcamp and save 65%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Forfocséic, Vol. 3: Love & War, Ní Neart Go Cur Le Chéile, Forfocséic, Vol. 2: Whiskey & Work, Quaranteenagers From Mars (Pandemic Demos 2020-2021), Forfocséic, Volume 1, Essential Songs For Essential Workers — Live From Quarantine, Come Out, Ye Black and Tans!, Ten Years Too Late, and 14 more.
1. |
Tell Me Ma
03:06
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Tell me ma when I go home
The boys won't leave the girls alone
Pull my hair and stole my comb
But that's all right 'til I go home
She is handsome
She is pretty
She is the belle
Of Boston city
She's a-courtin'
One-two-three
Pray, won't you tell me
Who is she?
Albert Mooney says he loves her
And all the boys are fighting for her
Knock on the door, ring on the bell
Said hello, my true love, are you well
Out she comes, as white as snow
Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes
Old Jenny Murray says she'll die
If she doesn't get the fella with the roving eye
Tell me ma when I go home
The boys won't leave the girls alone
Pull my hair and stole my comb
But that's all right 'til I go home
She is handsome
She is pretty
She is the belle
Of Boston city
She's a-courtin'
One-two-three
Pray, won't you tell me
Who is she?
The wind and the rain and the hail blow high
And the snow comes tumbling through the sky
She's as sweet as apple pie
She'll get her own right by and by
When she gets a lad of her own
She won't tell mom when she gets home
Let them all come as they will
For it's Albert Mooney she loves still
Tell me ma when I go home
The boys won't leave the girls alone
Pull my hair and stole my comb
But that's all right 'til I go home
She is handsome
She is pretty
She is the belle
Of Boston city
She's a-courtin'
One-two-three
Pray, won't you tell me
Who is she?
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2. |
The Rising of the Moon
02:58
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Oh then tell me Sean O'Farrell
Tell me why you hurry so
Hush, mo buachaill, hush and listen
And his cheeks were all aglow
I bear orders from the captain
Get you ready quick and soon
For the pikes must be together
By the rising of the moon
By the rising of the moon
By the rising of the moon
The pikes must be together
By the rising of the moon
Oh then tell me Sean O'Farrell
Where's the gathering to be?
In the old spot by the river
Right well known to you and me
One more word for signal token
Like the bean sídhe's lonely croon
With a pike upon your shoulder
By the rising of the moon
By the rising of the moon
By the rising of the moon
The pikes must be together
By the rising of the moon
Out from many a mud wall cabin
Eyes were watching through the night
Many manly hearts were beating
For the coming morning light
Murmurs rang along the valley
Like the bean sídhe's lonely croon
And a thousand pikes were calling
By the rising of the moon
By the rising of the moon
By the rising of the moon
The pikes must be together
By the rising of the moon
And they fought for poor old Ireland
And full bitter was their fate
Oh, what glorious pride and sorrow
Fills the name of '98
Death to every foe and traitor
Forward strike the marching tune!
Hurrah, me boys, for freedom!
Tis the rising of the moon
By the rising of the moon
By the rising of the moon
The pikes must be together
By the rising of the moon
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3. |
A Rainy Night in Soho
04:18
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I've been loving you a long time
Down all the years, down all the days
And I've cried for all your troubles
Smiled at your funny little ways
We watched our friends grow up together
And we saw them as they fell
Some of them fell into heaven
Some of them fell into hell
I took shelter from a shower
And I stepped into your arms
On a rainy night in Soho
The wind was whistling all its charms
I sang you all my sorrows
And you told me all your joys
What ever happened to those all songs?
To all those little girls and boys…?
Some times I wake up in the morning
The ginger lady by my bed
Covered in that cloak of silence
I hear you talking in my head
I'm not singing for the future
I'm not dreaming of the past
I'm not talking of the first time
I never think about the last
Now this song is nearly over
We may never find out what it means
Still there's a light I hold before me
And you're the measure of my dreams, the measure of my dreams
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4. |
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I was born on a Dublin street
Where the royal drums did beat
And those loving English feet
They'd walk all over us
And every single night
When me da would come home tight
He'd invite the neighbors out
With this fine chorus:
Come out, ye Black and Tans
Come on and fight me like a man
Show your wives how you won medals down in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA
Made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lakes of Killeshandra
Come tell us how you slew
Them poor Arabs, two by two
Like the Zulu, they had spears and bows and arrows
How bravely you faced one
With your sixteen pounder gun
When you frightened them poor natives to their marrow
Come let us hear you tell
How you slandered great Parnell
How you through and well and truly persecuted
Where are the sneers and jeers
That you bravely let us hear
When our leaders of '16 were executed?
Come out, ye Black and Tans
Come on and fight me like a man
Show your wives how you won medals down in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA
Made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lakes of Killeshandra
The time is coming fast
And I think those days are near
When each yeoman, he will run before us
And if there be a need
Then our kids will sing godspeed
With a verse or two of Stephen Behan's chorus:
Come out, ye Black and Tans
Come on and fight me like a man
Show your wives how you won medals down in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA
Made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lakes of Killeshandra
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5. |
Galway Girl
02:40
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Well I took a stroll
On the old long walk
Of a day
And I met a little girl
And we stopped to talk
Of a fine soft day
And I ask you, friend
What's a fella to do?
When her hair is black
And her eyes are blue
And I knew right then
I'd be taking a whirl
Around the Salt Hill prom
With a Galway Girl
We were halfway there
When the rain came down
Of a day
She took me up to her flat downtown
Of a fine soft day
And I ask you, friend
What's a fella to do?
When her hair is black
And her eyes are blue
And I knew right then
I'd be taking a whirl
Around the Salt Hill prom
With a Galway Girl
When I woke up
I was all alone
With a broken heart
And a ticket home
And I ask you, friend
What's a fella to do?
When her hair is black
And her eyes are blue
See, I've travelled around
Been all over the world, boys
And I've never seen nothing
Like a Galway Girl
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6. |
The Broad Black Brimmer
03:46
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There's a uniform still hanging
In what's known as father's room
A uniform so simple in its style
It has no fancy braid of gold
No hat with feathered plume
But my mother has preserved it
All the while
One day, she made me try it on
A wish of mine for years
In memory of your father Sean, she said
When I put the Sam Browne on
She was smiling through her tears
As she placed the broad black brimmer
On my head
It's just a broad black brimmer
With ribbons frayed and torn
From the careless whisk of many a mountain breeze
An old trench coat
That's so battle-stained and worn
And breaches almost thread-bare at the knees
A Sam Browne belt with buckle big and strong
And a holster that's been empty many a day
When men claim Ireland's freedom
The one should choose to lead them
Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA
It was the uniform worn by my father years ago
When he reached my mother's homestead on the run
It was the uniform he wore in that little church below
When oul' Father Mac, he blessed the pair as one
After truce and treaty and the parting of the ways
He wore it when he marched out with the rest
When they bore his body down on that rugged heather braes
They placed the broad black brimmer on his chest
It's just a broad black brimmer
With ribbons frayed and torn
From the careless whisk of many a mountain breeze
An old trench coat
That's so battle-stained and worn
And breaches almost thread-bare at the knees
A Sam Browne belt with buckle big and strong
And a holster that's been empty many a day
When men claim Ireland's freedom
The one should choose to lead them
Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA
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7. |
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On Raglan Road
On an autumn day
I saw her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare
That I might one day rue
I saw the danger
Yet I walked
Along the enchanted way
And I said, "Let grief be a falling leaf
At the dawning of the day"
On Grafton Street in November
We tripped lightly along the ledge
Of a deep ravine where can be seen
The worth of passions pledged
The Queen of Hearts still making tarts
And I not making hay
Oh, I loved too much
By such, by such
Is happiness thrown away
I gave her gifts of the mind
I gave her the secret signs
That are known to artists who have known
The true gods of sound and stone
With words and tint I did not stint
I gave her poems to say
With her own name there
And her own dark hair
Like clouds over fields of May
On a quiet street where old ghosts meet
I can see her walking now
Away from me so hurriedly
My reason must allow
That I had loved not as I should
A creature made of clay
When the angel woos the clay
He'll lose his wings at the dawn of day
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8. |
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When I was a young man
I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murray's green basin
To the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915, my country said son
It's time you stopped rambling, there's work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we sailed away from the Quay
And amidst all the cheers
The shouts and the tears
We sailed off for Gallipoli
How well I remember that terrible day
When the blood stained the sand and the water
And how in the hell that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk, he was ready
He'd primed himself well
He showered us with bullets
And he rained us with shells
And in five minutes flat
He'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back
To Australia
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs
Then we started all over again
Now those who were living
Did their best to survive
In that mad world of guts, blood, and fire
For seven long weeks
I kept myself alive
As the corpses around me
Piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell
Knocked me ass over tits
And when I awoke
In my hospital bed
And saw what it had done
Christ, I wished I was dead
I never knew there was worse things
Than dying
And no more I'll go waltzing Matilda
To the green bushes, so far and near
For to hang tent and pegs, a man needs two legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me
So they collected the crippled
The wounded, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The legless, the armless
The blind and the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve, or to mourn, or to pity
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered
They just stood and stared
Then they turned all their faces away
Now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parades pass before me
I see my old comrades
How proudly they march
Reliving the dreams of past glories
I see the old men, all crippled and worn
The forgotten heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask me
What are they marching for?
And I ask myself the same question
But the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the call
But year after year
Their numbers get fewer
Someday no one will march there at all
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
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9. |
||||
I was born on a Dublin street
Where the royal drums did beat
And those loving English feet
They'd walk all over us
And every single night
When me da would come home tight
He'd invite the neighbors out
With this fine chorus:
Fuck the police
Coming straight from the underground
A young Mick's got it bad in this town
Because the Tans have authority
To kill the majority
Fuck that shit
Because I ain't the one
For a punk motherfucker
With a badge and a gun
To be beating on
Or thrown in jail
Is cuma liomsa foc faoi aon gharda
Come out, ye Black and Tans
Come on and fight me like a man
Show your wives how you won medals down in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA
Made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lakes of Killeshandra
Come tell us how you slew
Them poor Arabs, two by two
Like the Zulu, they had spears and bows and arrows
How bravely you faced one
With your sixteen pounder gun
When you frightened them poor natives to their marrow
Come let us hear you tell
How you slandered great Parnell
How you through and well and truly persecuted
Where are the sneers and jeers
That you bravely let us hear
When our leaders of '16 were executed?
Come out, ye Black and Tans
Come on and fight me like a man
Show your wives how you won medals down in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA
Made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lakes of Killeshandra
The time is coming fast
And I think those days are near
When each yeoman, he will run before us
And if there be a need
Then our kids will sing godspeed
With a verse or two of Stephen Behan's chorus:
Fuck the police
Coming straight from the underground
A young Mick's got it bad in this town
Because the Tans have authority
To kill the majority
Fuck that shit
Because I ain't the one
For a punk motherfucker
With a badge and a gun
To be beating on
Or thrown in jail
Is cuma liomsa foc faoi aon gharda
Come out, ye Black and Tans
Come on and fight me like a man
Show your wives how you won medals down in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA
Made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lakes of Killeshandra
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Thom Dunn Boston, Massachusetts
Thom Dunn is a Boston-based writer, musician, & new media artist. He enjoys Oxford commas, metaphysics, and romantic clichés (especially when they involve whiskey), and he firmly believes that Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" is the single greatest atrocity committed against mankind. He is a graduate of Clarion Writer's Workshop at UCSD & Emerson College. thomdunn.net ... more
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