Just caught closing minutes of a documentary on Joan Baez and this song featured. I’d never heard it before. Glad I heard it today.
“GOD IS GOD” (Lyrics)
(Steve Earle)
I believe in prophecy
Some folks see things
Not everybody can see
And once in a while
They pass the secret along
To you and me
And I believe in miracles
Something sacred burning
In every bush and tree
We can all learn to sing
The songs the angels sing
Yeah I believe in God
And God ain’t me
I’ve traveled around the world
Stood on mighty mountains
And gazed across the wilderness
Never seen a line in the sand
Or a diamond in the dust
And as our fate unfurls
Every day that passes
I’m sure about a little bit less
Even my money keeps telling me
It’s God I need to trust
And I believe in God
But God ain’t us
God of my little understanding
Don’t care what name I call
Whether or not I believe
Doesn’t matter at all
I receive the blessings
That every day on earth’s
another chance to get it right
Let this little light of mine
Shine and rage against the night
Just another lesson
Maybe someone’s watching
And wondering what I got
Maybe this is why I’m here on earth
And maybe not
Heard this on Playback on Saturday morning. Class! What a gift to be able to make a sound so fresh and a tune so special. God bless the work, Finbar Furey!
I called to visit a family in the parish last night and, when leaving their home, I spotted the moon and “clicked”. I was reminded of Imelda May’s song “Meet you at the moon”. She said she wrote it for her mother. It was her way of connecting with her mother when they are miles apart. The moon they see, no matter where they stand, is the same moon and the suggestion is to meet there. A lovely sentiment.
We’re lookin’ at the same moon
Though we’re miles apart
We’re wishin’ on the same star
When you’re deep in my heart
I don’t know if you know
But when we miss each other so
Look up, I’ll meet you at the moon
We’re starin’ at the same sky
Strange as it seems
We’re sittin’ on the same earth
Though there’s oceans between
I don’t know if you know
But when we miss each other so
Look up, I’ll meet you at the moon
Mmm, I’m part of you
And your part of me
But it’s a cold old world
When your missin’ somebody
Without you I wouldn’t couldn’t be
So when your heart is achin’
And it can’t take much more breaking
We’re lookin’ at the same moon
Though we’re miles apart
We’re wishin’ on the same start
When your deep in my heart
I don’t know if you know
But when we miss each other so
Look up, I’ll meet you at the moon
Writer(s): Imelda May, Imelda Mary Higham
Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing (Uk) Limited, Chrysalis Music Ltd.
Had the good fortune to attend a Johnny McEvoy concert in Sligo on Sunday night. Have seen him a few times through the years and have many of his song numbered among my favourites. Didn’t know til last night that the first song he wrote “Long Long Before Your Time” was penned outside Kennedy’s in Doocastle! Always enjoy hearing the story of a song. I like this one too – the story of his love for his late wife, Odette, R.I.P. “The Planter’s Daughter”
Earlier today I was in Kilmovee School and we talked a bit about peace and the need to pray for peace in a very troubled world. I told the children that I once heard a lovely poem that spoke of the cruelty of war. I even remembered where I first heard it. It was on a recording of Johnny McEvoy singing “The Town I Love So Well” and that I was sorry I don’t have the recording anymore. As I spoke, the teacher brought up the words of the poem on the whiteboard and we looked at it together. The poem is called “The Box” and its message seems tragically all too relevant right now. Maybe you might take a look, share a thought and say a prayer for all who are suffering because people have, once again, “battered in the lid”
The Box by Lascelles Abercrombie
Once upon a time, in the land of Hush-A-Bye, Around about the wondrous days of yore, They came across a kind of box Bound up with chains and locked with locks And labeled “Kindly do not touch; it’s war.” A decree was issued round about, and all with a flourish and a shout And a gaily colored mascot tripping lightly on before. Don’t fiddle with this deadly box,Or break the chains, or pick the locks. And please don’t ever play about with war. The children understood. Children happen to be good And they were just as good around the time of yore. They didn’t try to pick the locksOr break into that deadly box. They never tried to play about with war. Mommies didn’t either; sisters, aunts, grannies neither ‘Cause they were quiet, and sweet, and pretty In those wondrous days of yore. Well, very much the same as now, And not the ones to blame somehow For opening up that deadly box of war. But someone did. Someone battered in the lid And spilled the insides out across the floor. A kind of bouncy, bumpy ball made up of guns and flags And all the tears, and horror, and death that comes with war. It bounced right out and went bashing all about, Bumping into everything in store.And what was sad and most unfair Was that it didn’t really seem to care Much who it bumped, or why, or what, or for. It bumped the children mainly. And I’ll tell you this quite plainly, It bumps them every day and more, and more, And leaves them dead, and burned, and dying Thousands of them sick and crying. ‘Cause when it bumps, it’s really very sore. Now there’s a way to stop the ball. It isn’t difficult at all. All it takes is wisdom, and I’m absolutely sure That we can get it back into the box,And bind the chains, and lock the locks. But no one seems to want to save the children anymore. Well, that’s the way it all appears, ’cause it’s been bouncing round for years and years In spite of all the wisdom wizzed since those wondrous days of yore And the time they came across the box, Bound up with chains and locked with locks, And labeled “Kindly do not touch; it’s war.”
________________________________________
and here’s the song … the last word of the poem is there. I’d love to hear McEvoy recite this again.
And another fine song from one of my favourite singers ….
This I’ve included elsewhere but read recently that Leonard is turning 80 soon so thought I might feature a few of the pieces I like from him. This is one of them where he takes the words of another and so makes his own of them.
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