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Son Of Hickory Holler’s Tramp

Son of Hickory Holler’s Tramp.

Lyrics: American country musician and song writer, the late Dallas Frazier (1939 – 2022).
Vocals: American singer and song writer, the late Kenny Rogers (1938 – 2020).

Son of Hickory Holler’s Tramp.

The corn was dry, the weeds were high when Daddy took to drinkin’.
Then him and Lucy Walker they took up and run away.
Mama cried a tear and then, she promised fourteen children,
I swear you’ll never see a hungry day.
When Mama sacrificed her pride, the neighbours started talking,
But I was much too young to understand a thing they said.
The things that mattered most of all was Mama’s chicken dumplings,
And a goodnight kiss before we went to bed.
Oh, the path was deep and wide, from footsteps leading to our cabin,
Above the door there burned a scarlet lamp,
And late at night, a hand would knock and there would stand a stranger,
Yes, I’m the son of Hickory Holler’s tramp.
When Daddy left and destitution came upon our family,
Not one neighbour volunteered to give a helping hand.
So let ’em gossip all they want, she loved us and she raised us,
The proof is standing here, a full grown man.
Last summer Mama passed away and left the ones who loved her.
Each and every one was more than grateful for their birth.
Each Sunday she receives a fresh bouquet of fourteen roses,
And a card that says, “The greatest Mom on earth”.
Oh, the path was deep and wide, from footsteps leading to our cabin,
Above the door there burned a scarlet lamp,
And late at night, a hand would knock and there would stand a stranger,
Yes, I’m the son of Hickory Holler’s tramp.
Oh, the path was deep and wide, from footsteps leading to our cabin,
Above the door there burned a scarlet lamp,
And late at night, a hand would knock and there would stand a stranger,
Yes, I’m the son of Hickory Holler’s tramp.
Oh, the path was deep and wide, from footsteps leading to our cabin,
Above the door there burned a scarlet lamp,
And late at night, a hand would knock and there would stand a stranger,
Yes, I’m the son of Hickory Holler’s tramp.
END

Dancing In The Dark.

Dancing In The Dark.

‘Dancing In The Dark’ was the first single released ahead of Bruce Springsteen’s 1984 album, ‘Born in the U.S.A. and became his biggest hit, thus helping the album become the best-selling album of his career.
This above named song was composed in one night by ‘The Boss’, following a row with his manager American music critic, writer, and record producer Jon Landau.
Landau wanted “Born in the USA” to become a massive commercial hit, which went against Springsteen’s ethos with regards music and creativity.
His lyrics discuss the difficulties of being a music artist (“check my look in the mirror, I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face”), and highlight the pressures of commercial success, while maintaining artistic integrity.
“Can’t start a fire… can’t star a fire without a spark”. “This gun’s for hire, even if we’re just dancing in the dark”, confirms that despite his creative mind, it is impossible to just click your fingers and immediately produce a hit song; which of course is what this Rock Music genius actually achieved.

Vocals and Lyrics: American rock singer, songwriter, and guitarist, (Nicknamed “The Boss”) Bruce Frederick Joseph Springsteen and the E Street Band.

Dancing In The Dark.

I get up in the evenin’,
And I ain’t got nothin’ to say.
I come home in the mornin’,
I go to bed feelin’ the same way.
I ain’t nothin’ but tired,
Man, I’m just tired and bored with myself,
Hey there, baby, I could use just a little help,
You can’t start a fire,
You can’t start a fire without a spark,
This gun’s for hire,
Even if we’re just dancin’ in the dark.
Messages keeps gettin’ clearer,
Radio’s on and I’m movin’ ’round my place,
I check my look in the mirror,
Wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face,
Man, I ain’t gettin’ nowhere,
I’m just livin’ in a dump like this,
There’s somethin’ happenin’ somewhere,
Baby, I just know that there is,
You can’t start a fire,
You can’t start a fire without a spark,
This gun’s for hire,
Even if we’re just dancin’ in the dark.
You sit around gettin’ older,
There’s a joke here somewhere and it’s on me,
I’ll shake this world off my shoulders,
Come on, baby, the laugh’s on me,
Stay on the streets of this town,
And they’ll be carvin’ you up alright.
They say you gotta stay hungry,
Hey baby, I’m just about starvin’ tonight,
I’m dyin’ for some action,
I’m sick of sittin’ ’round here tryin’ to write this book,
I need a love reaction,
Come on now, baby, gimme just one look,
You can’t start a fire,
Sittin’ ’round cryin’ over a broken heart,
This gun’s for hire,
Even if we’re just dancin’ in the dark.
You can’t start a fire,
Worryin’ about your little world fallin’ apart.
This gun’s for hire,
Even if we’re just dancin’ in the dark.
Even if we’re just dancin’ in the dark.
Even if we’re just dancin’ in the dark.
Even if we’re just dancin’ in the dark.
Hey baby
!
END

A Song For A Sunday

When God Paints.

Lyrics: Award winning songwriter, composer and lyricist and librettist Gregory Becker and the late American songwriter Troy Jones.
Vocals: Neotraditional American country music singer-songwriter Alan Eugene Jackson.

When God Paints.

When God paints, birds sing.
He colours every feather on a sparrow’s wing.
When God paints, the wind blows,
With a stroke of love, he dips his brush in a rainbow.
Sometimes I take for granted the simple things.
I can be his biggest critic when it starts to rain,
But there’s always a bigger picture I can’t explain,
When God paints, the heart beats,
A life begins, a season ends and lovers meet,
And I’ve learned that sometimes,
It’s not always black and white or well-defined,
When God paints.
Sometimes I take for granted the simple things.
I can be his biggest critic when it starts to rain,
But there’s always a bigger picture I can’t explain,
When God paints, we dance,
And I reach across the canvas and I take your hand,
And my world is so complete,
When I look at you, a masterpiece is all I see,
When God paints.
Sometimes I take for granted the simple things.
I can be his biggest critic when it starts to rain.
But there’s always a bigger picture I can’t explain,
When God paints.
I pray I always see the beauty inside the frame,
When God paints.
END

FREE Culture Night Event – “An Evening With Patrice Davern”.

FREE Culture Night Event in Cashel Library
“An evening with Patrice Davern”.
Friday 20th September from 6.30pm.

Ms Maura Barrett, (Cashel Library) Reports:-

You can locate the Cashel Library building, situated on Friar Street, Lady’s Well, Cashel, Co. Tipperary, HERE. (G487+RX)
Please Note: For this free event hereunder booking is essential to Tel. No.:- 062, 63825

Ms Patrice (O’Connor) Davern studied music at Maynooth University at both degree and Masters level, before taking up a place at the world-renowned Sorbonne University in Paris, where she attained a professional Masters in both music and performance.

She has toured extensively with both ‘To Dance on the Moon’ and ‘Spirit of Ireland’, performing at home and in Germany, Denmark, New Zealand and Australia.

She sang as a soloist at the Eucharistic Congress in Croke Park and at the opening Mass for the ‘World Meeting of Families’ and also performed for the visit of Pope Francis to Ireland, along with regular performances on RTE’s televised Masses.

Feels Like Home To Me.

Lyrics: American singer, songwriter, pianist, film composer and conductor, Randy Newman.
Vocals: Patrice (O’Connor) Davern.

Feels Like Home To Me.

There’s something in your eyes,
Makes me wanna lose myself.
Makes me wanna lose myself,
In your arms.
There’s something in your voice,
Makes my heart beat fast.
Hope this feeling lasts, the rest of my life.
And if you knew how lonely my life has been,
And how long I’ve been so alone.
And if you knew how I wanted someone to come along,
And change my life the way you’ve done.
It feels like home to me.
It feels like home to me.
It feels like I’m all the way back where I come from.
It feels like home to me.
It feels like home to me.
It feels like I’m all the way back where I belong.
A window breaks down a long dark street,
And a siren wails in the night.
But I’m alright, cause I have you here with me,
And I can almost see the dark, there is light
Well if you knew how much this moment means to me,
And how long I’ve waited for your touch.
And if you knew how happy you are making me,
I never thought that I’d love anyone so much.
It feels like home to me.
It feels like home to me.
It feels like I’m all the way back where I come from.
It feels like home to me.
It feels like home to me.
It feels like I’m all the way back where I belong..
It feels like I’m all the way back where I came from.

END

Ms Patrice (O’Connor) Davern and her sister have performed as a duo and their wedding rendition of the ‘Rattlin Bog’ received world-wide attention, receiving over 100 million views on-line; earning them an invite to perform at a music festival in Wisconsin, USA.

Ms Davern regularly performs with the ‘Fuaimlaoi Choir’, based out of St Teresa’s Church, Clarendon Street, Dublin and has recorded a studio album and composed music for liturgical celebrations, along with recording individual songs released with her sister.

This is an evening of entertainment truly not to be missed.

A Song For A Sunday.

Is This The World We Created… ?

Lyrics and Cords: English musician, songwriter, record producer, animal rights activist and astrophysics Sir Brian Harold May (CBE) and British pianist, songwriter, singer, and lead vocalist in the rock band “Queen” Freddie Mercury.
Vocals: British rock band “Queen” with lead vocals Freddie Mercury.

Is This The World We Created… ?

Just look at all those hungry mouths we have to feed.
Take a look at all the suffering we breed.
So many lonely faces scattered all around,
Searching for what they need.
Is this the world we created?
What did we do it for?
Is this the world we invaded,
Against the law?
So it seems in the end,
Is this what we’re all living for today?
The world that we created.
You know that every day a helpless child is born.
Who needs some loving care inside a happy home.
Somewhere, a wealthy man is sitting on his throne,
Waiting for life to go by.
Oh-oh, is this the world we created?
We made it on our own.
Is this the world we devasted, right to the bone?
If there’s a God in the sky, looking down,
What can he think of what we’ve done,
To the world that He created?

END.