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I was eight years old And running with a dime in my hand To the bus stop to pick Up a paper for my old man I’d sit on his lap in that big old Buick And steer as we drove through town He’d tousle my hair And say, “son, take a good look around” This is your hometown This is your hometown This is your hometown This is your hometown”
In ’65 tension was running high At my high school There was a lot of fights Between the black and white There was nothing you could do Two cars at a light on a Saturday night In the back seat there was a gun Words were passed in a shotgun blast Troubled times had come To my hometown To my hometown To my hometown To my hometown
Now Main Street’s whitewashed windows And vacant stores Seems like there ain’t nobody Wants to come down here no more They’re closing down the textile mill Across the railroad tracks Foreman says, “these jobs are going, boys And they ain’t coming back To your hometown To your hometown To your hometown To your hometown”
Last night me and Kate we laid in bed Talking about getting out Packing up our bags, maybe heading south I’m thirty-five, we got a boy of our own now Last night I sat him up behind the wheel And said, “son, take a good look around This is your hometown”
Best of the Night: Billie EilishActually Looks Happier Than Ever
Did Billie Eilish even know she was performing at the Grammys? The way she rocked out while singing “Happier Than Ever,” jumping up and down and smiling at her brother, guitarist-producer Finneas, she seemed like she was owning a moment all her own. Not even pouring rain — or the fact that she would walk away with zero trophies among the seven she was nominated for, an egregious shutout given the year she had — could ruin the good time she was having on top of a prop mobile home as she belted “Just leave me aloooo-ho-ho-hone.” But she didn’t lose herself completely; she still remembered to hold up her T-shirt, repping late Foo Fighters drummer Taylor Hawkins, sharing in her triumph.
Lyrics
When I’m away from you, I’m happier than ever Wish I could explain it better I wish it wasn’t true, hm Give me a day or two to think of something clever To write myself a letter To tell me what to do, mm-mmm
Do you read my interviews? Or do you skip my avenue? (My avenue) When you (when you) said you were passing through Was I even on your way? I knew when I asked you to (when I asked you to) Be cool about what I was telling you You’d do the opposite of what you said you’d do (what you said you’d do) And I’d end up more afraid
Don’t say it isn’t fair You clearly weren’t aware that you made me miserable So if you really wanna know
When I’m away from you (when I’m away from you) I’m happier than ever (happier than ever) Wish I could explain it better (wish I could explain it better) I wish it wasn’t true (wish it wasn’t true), mmm-hmm
You call me again, drunk in your Benz Driving home under the influence You scared me to death, but I’m wasting my breath ‘Cause you only listen to your fucking friends I don’t relate to you I don’t relate to you, no ‘Cause I’d never treat me this shitty You made me hate this city
And I don’t talk shit about you on the internet Never told anyone anything bad ‘Cause that shit’s embarrassing, you were my everything And all that you did was make me fucking sad
So don’t waste the time I don’t have And don’t try to make me feel bad I could talk about every time that you showed up on time But I’d have an empty line ’cause you never did Never paid any mind to my mother or friends So I shut ’em all out for you ’cause I was a kid
You ruined everything good Always said you were misunderstood Made all my moments your own Just fucking leave me alone
4,515 views•Jul 3, 2009371ShareSavePaddy Barry 46K subscribers From the 1990 tv series Bringing It All Back Home.
SONNY
R. Hynes
Sonny lives on a farm, in a wide open space Take off your shoes, stay out of the race Lay down your head, on a soft river bed Sonny always remembers the words Mamma says.
Sonny don’t go away, I’m here all alone Your Daddy’s a sailor, never comes home, Nights are so long, silence goes on, I’m feeling so tired and not all that strong.
Sonny works on the land, though he’s barely a man There’s not much to do but he does what he can Sits by his window in his room by the stairs Watching the waves drifting soft on the pier.
Sonny don’t go away, I’m here all alone Your Daddy’s a sailor, never comes home, Nights are so long, silence goes on, I’m feeling so tired and not all that strong.
Many years have rolled on, Sonny’s old and alone His Daddy the sailor, never came home Sometimes he wonders what his life might have been But from the grave Mamma still haunts his dreams.
Sonny don’t go away, I’m here all alone Your Daddy’s a sailor, never comes home, Nights are so long, silence goes on, I’m feeling so tired and not all that strong.
Daniel performs the popular Irish ballad by Percy French at the Green Glens Arena in Millstreet, County Cork on New Year’s Eve 1994.
Lyrics
The Garden of Eden has vanished, they say
But I know the lie of it still; Just turn to the left at the bridge of Finea And stop when halfway to Cootehill. ‘Tis there I will find it, I know sure enough When fortune has come to me call, Oh the grass it is green around Ballyjamesduff And the blue sky is over it all. And tones that are tender and tones that are gruff Are whispering over the sea, Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me. My mother once told me that when I was born The day that I first saw the light, I looked down the street on that very first morn And gave a great crow of delight. Now most newborn babies appear in a huff, And start with a sorrowful squall, But I knew I was born in Ballyjamesduff And that’s why I smiled on them all. The baby’s a man, now he’s toil-worn and tough Still, whispers come over the sea, Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me. The night that we danced by the light of the moon, Wid Phil to the fore wid his flute, When Phil threw his lip over Come Again Soon, He’s dance the foot out o’ yer boot! The day that I took long Magee by the scruff For slanderin’ Rosie Kilrain, Then, marchin’ him straight out of Ballyjamesduff, Assisted him into a drain. Oh, sweet are the dreams, as the dudeen I puff, Of whisperings over the sea, Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me. I’ve loved the young women of every land, That always came easy to me; Just barrin’ the belles of the Black-a-moor brand And the chocolate shapes of Feegee. But that sort of love is a moonshiny stuff, And never will addle me brain, For the bells will be ringin’ in Ballyjamesduff For me and me Rosie Kilrain! And through all their glamour, their gas and their guff A whisper comes over the sea, Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me. Encore verse I’ve struck oil at last! I’ve struck work, and I vow I’ve struck some remarkable clothes, I’ve struck a policeman for sayin’ that now, I’d go back to my beautiful Rose. The belles they may blarney, the boys they may bluff But this I will always maintain, No place in the world like Ballyjamesduff No guril (sic) like Rosie Kilrain. I’ve paid for my passage, the sea may be rough But borne on each breeze there will be, Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me.
Lisa O’Neill and band perform ‘Dreaming’ live in Whelans on December 21st 2012. If you have enjoyed this video please consider sponsoring my music films via Patreon and help me continue to make more https://www.patreon.com/mylesoreilly All music my music films are available to watch free of charge at http://www.arbutusyarns.net
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