Surrreal songs are flowing through my SOUL
Kindred spirit energy sure is granting me LIFE
YouthFULLL wings o'wonder take me far AWAY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Poets long gone suddenly appear with JOY HERE
Intense feeelings inspire me to soar EVEN HIGHER
Leafy lefty labyrinth lunacy IS THE BEST REALITY
Gifts o'ancestral guides offer me OTHERWORLD CARE
Reaching the deeepest places innn my HEALED HEART
I've got to FULLLy find a way to do what i can to HELP
Many are sadly LOST innn scars that paralyzed me TOOO
Sharing my roller coaster rides is the least i can DOOO!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
17 vibes o'hope for ALLL who reach out of their darkness wondering if anyone cares... i care, j>a>e>17 :):):)
for my dear ancestors lost in the great hunger...an gorta mor... their spirit LIVES innn my heart... :):):)
proud tooo BEEE a mixed muttt non~conformist pilgrim & mega thanx always to sensational sinead o'connor & her pure magical~~~mystical~~~muse~ical heart o'emerald gold!!! :):):)
"o, father dear, I oft times here, you speak of erin's isle,
her lofty scenes, her valleys green, her mountains rude and wild
they say it tis a lovely place, wherin in a saint might dwell,
so why did you abandon it, the reason to me tell?
oh son I loved my native land, with energy and pride
'til a blight came over on my prats, my sheep and cattle died,
the rent and taxes were so high, I could not them redeem,
and that's the cruel reason why, I left old skibbereen.
oh, It's well I do remember, that bleak december day,
the landlord and the sheriff came, to drive us all away
they set my roof on fire, with their cursed english spleen
and that's another reason why, I left old skibbereen.
your mother too, god rest her soul, fell on the snowy ground,
she fainted in her anguish, seeing the desolation all round.
she never rose, but passed away, from life to imortal dream,
she found a quiet grave, my boy, in dear old Skibbereen.
and you were only two years old, and feeble was your frame,
i could not leave you with your friends, you bore your father's name,
i wrapped you in my cota mior, in the dead of night unseen
i heaved a sigh, and said goodbye, to dear old Skibbereen
o' father dear, the day will come, when answer to the call
all Irish men of freedom stern, will rally one and all
ill be the man to lead the band, beneath the flag of green
loud and clear, well raise a cheer , remember skibbereen..."
