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Crazy Cut (Tara)

Music & Lyrics Copyright © by David Nevin

Tara, O Tara, our ancestral home

They want to drive a motorway,

Through our sacred valley, like a knife, it cuts into the bone,

We cannot watch in despair as they desecrate our heritage

Act now or forever be in shame

Tara, Divert this road

(1)

With our politicians, we all agree

A solution must be found to ease commuter misery.

But one such politician, with the NRA,

Signed into law, this crazy motorway.

They say it’s going to cost 30 million to excavate,

38 archaeological sites which lie in it’s wake,

Snaking through this sacred valley with it’s floodlit interchange,

We must divert, we must divert this crazy motorway

Chorus

Instrumental

(2)

Laoghaire, Ethne, Grainne, Cormac Mac Art,

All inaugurated at the Lia Fáil, for at Tara the royalty sat.

Brian Brú, our famous king will look down in dismay,

Our government to sanction, this crazy motorway

Noise, Air and Light pollution will obstruct our sacred view,

From Skryne to Dalgan Park and over to Loughcrew.

To loose it’s peace, tranquillity from the dawning of the day,

We’ll loose our antiquity to this crazy motorway.

Chorus

Chorus

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Tóráiocht

Music, Lyrics and Copyright © by Harry Long

Chorus
He used to tell her when they made love there was sunlight in her eyes
She promised him twould last forever more
Lovers in their warm embrace speak no deceit nor lies
But fates can change and so have done before

Wed not wife was Grainne to a man she did not love
Too young for ageing heroes so she laced his drink with drugs
As as her wedded husband slept and all the sleeping guests
She chose another, Dermot, as the one to love her best

She put him under ancient bonds to love her and defend her
Through all the perils and darkness that they both would face together
And Dermot took her by the hand and out into the night
Forsaking friends and family the lovers made their flight
Chorus
He used to tell her when they made love there was sunlight in her eyes
She promised him twould last forever more
Lovers in their warm embrace speak no deceit nor lies
But fates can change and so have done before

The wedding guests and bridegroom awoke long after dawn
And looking through their drowsy dreams they saw the bride was gone
As Dermot was the only man whose face they couldn’t see
They swore to ride the country wide where e’er the couple be

They rode for days they rode for weeks and many months went by
While Grainne and her lover ran beneath the open sky
And when by chance on distant hills the two were ever seen
They’d kiss three times defiantly then fade from where they’d been

Chorus (Repeat)

They slept beneath the stars and moon they slept beside the streams
They lay by lake and mountainside then fell into their dreams
For many years they kept ahead of those in close pursuit
But dreams must end and love must bend to fates it does not choose

One night as Dermot sought a rest place through the forest dim
He came upon a boar who wild and angry rushed at him
And though he fought to save his life he fell that night to death
While Grainne torn and tearful swore never to forget

How he used to tell her when they made love there was sunlight in her eyes
How she promised him twould last forever more
But lost without his warm embrace she turned away and cried
And to her husband faith forever swore

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Still Waiting

Music & Lyrics Copyright © by David Nevin

22 White crosses, at the bottom of the hill
22 lost souls, still waiting to cross the ford
Crossing that bridge, crossing the race of the mill
22 white crosses, at the bottom of the hill

I see the river, at the bottom of the hill
Crossing the arches, running along the weir,
On the south bank, looking back at the mill
I’ve crossed the river knowing others that never will

I’ve travelled this well worn way
Where monarchs have had their day
When horse’s hooves trod
And sparks flew in the night
On open fires with sod
In a land of little light

22 White crosses, at the bottom of the hill
22 lost souls, still waiting to cross the ford
Crossing that bridge, crossing the race of the mill
22 white crosses, at the bottom of the hill

Today we live in fear
Lest the horses we cannot hear
Come trundling down that hill
Past resurrected walls
Thirsty engines which maim and kill
Hush, we can hear them call

22 White crosses, at the bottom of the hill
22 lost souls, still waiting to cross the ford
On the south bank, looking back at the mill
I’ve crossed the river knowing others that never will
I’ve crossed the southbank knowing others that never will

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