I remember on the radio
Way back in long gone days
We’d listen to the Walton’s
Where traditional music played
And we were well advised
Whether right or wrong
“if you feel like singing
Do sing and Irish song!”
But that was in the old days
The time when trad was trad
With dancing on the radio
Sure I think we all were mad
And people from the country
Kept the ballrooms chocker block
They’d the Macushla and the National
And we had Dicky Rock
In hindsight and in looking back
Sure the likes of you and I
Were more tuned into Caroline
Than to the diddely-eye
We couldn’t tell drone from chanter
Or a hornpipe from a reel
At the Blind we were high kicking
And trying to get a feel
Then suddenly the crew-cuts
The corduroy and the tweed
Made way for the Wranglers
At the Comhras Ceoltor-i
The started flaunting fainnes
In the pub and in your face
The was even talk of diddely-eye
In the Dorset Meeting
Place
For me that magic moment was
- My epiphany I feel -
When the Jolly Beggar man
Turned into a reel
Blinded by warm tears of joy
And shook by waves of glee
Sitting on the parlor couch
Clutching the ‘Black’ LP
And Andy took me walking
To the West Coast of Clare
And the Sorrow and the Sadness
And the pubs that he knew there
And Christy knew the words
To every single song
The Raggle Taggle
Gypsy’s mot
And the Blacksmith that done wrong
Liam Og played a blinder
He made that chanter hop
And I started getting anxious
Afraid the joy would stop
Donal weaving in and out
Playing counter melody
To Andy’s mando magic
On his brand new bouzouki
While they reached that magic moment
With the needle in the groove
I searched to find the words
To express how I’d been moved
I got down on my knees
As the melodies did weave
And put my hands together saying
“Lord! I do believe!”