Brendan O’Dowda singing Gortnamona, written by Percy French.
Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the birds were singing in the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was my heart that was singing, singing, singing, With the joy that you were bringing, oh my love, to me Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the wind was sighing round the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was the banshee that was crying, crying, crying, And I knew my love was dying far across the sea. Now if you go through the woods of Gortnamona, You’ll hear the raindrops creeping through the blackthorn tree; But oh, it is the tears thatI am weeping, weeping, weeping, For the loved one that is sleeping far away from me. Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the birds were singing in the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was my heart that was singing, singing, singing, With the joy that you were bringing, oh my love, to me
65,990 views May 6, 2012Daniel performs the popular Irish ballad by Percy French at the Green Glens Arena in Millstreet, County Cork on New Year’s Eve 1994.
65,990 views May 6, 2012Daniel 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.
Brendan O’Dowda singing Gortnamona, written by Percy French.
Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the birds were singing in the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was my heart that was singing, singing, singing, With the joy that you were bringing, oh my love, to me Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the wind was sighing round the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was the banshee that was crying, crying, crying, And I knew my love was dying far across the sea. Now if you go through the woods of Gortnamona, You’ll hear the raindrops creeping through the blackthorn tree; But oh, it is the tears thatI am weeping, weeping, weeping, For the loved one that is sleeping far away from me. Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the birds were singing in the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was my heart that was singing, singing, singing, With the joy that you were bringing, oh my love, to me
Brendan O’Dowda singing Gortnamona, written by Percy French.
Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the birds were singing in the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was my heart that was singing, singing, singing, With the joy that you were bringing, oh my love, to me Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the wind was sighing round the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was the banshee that was crying, crying, crying, And I knew my love was dying far across the sea. Now if you go through the woods of Gortnamona, You’ll hear the raindrops creeping through the blackthorn tree; But oh, it is the tears thatI am weeping, weeping, weeping, For the loved one that is sleeping far away from me. Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the birds were singing in the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was my heart that was singing, singing, singing, With the joy that you were bringing, oh my love, to me
Brendan O’Dowda singing Gortnamona, written by Percy French.
Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the birds were singing in the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was my heart that was singing, singing, singing, With the joy that you were bringing, oh my love, to me Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the wind was sighing round the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was the banshee that was crying, crying, crying, And I knew my love was dying far across the sea. Now if you go through the woods of Gortnamona, You’ll hear the raindrops creeping through the blackthorn tree; But oh, it is the tears thatI am weeping, weeping, weeping, For the loved one that is sleeping far away from me. Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the birds were singing in the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was my heart that was singing, singing, singing, With the joy that you were bringing, oh my love, to me
Brendan O’Dowda singing Gortnamona, written by Percy French. Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the birds were singing in the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was my heart that was singing, singing, singing, With the joy that you were bringing, oh my love, to me Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the wind was sighing round the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was the banshee that was crying, crying, crying, And I knew my love was dying far across the sea. Now if you go through the woods of Gortnamona, You’ll hear the raindrops creeping through the blackthorn tree; But oh, it is the tears thatI am weeping, weeping, weeping, For the loved one that is sleeping far away from me. Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona, I thought the birds were singing in the blackthorn tree; But oh, it was my heart that was singing, singing, singing, With the joy that you were bringing, oh my love, to me
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