Excellent ... thanks for sharing these with us, Cait!
I have no homemade Irish music to share myself. Looking forward to others' offerings, though.
I think many people write poems to capture their emotions about so much, and I really think there is a "bardic" soul in people and they themselves may not realize it. I think that is what I was hoping might get shared if some have those texts or songs stashed in some file or folder--or still in their hearts.
County Woodside? I'm intrigued, Cait. Can you post the lyrics here?
Gerry, Sorry, I just saw your post tonight. Here are the lyrics:
New York’s a big city where one can get lost
Midst millions of people whose paths are all crossed
But each little neighborhood has its own space
In the hearts of the people who hail from that place.
Our ancestors came from the old country
Ireland, our mother, with her thirty-three
The count’s thirty-two until they arrive
In grand New York City and try to survive.
The thirty-third county is where I was born
Where Irish hearts greet you with “top of the morn!”
It’s Irish America over the foam
It’s called County Woodside, our home far from home.
The priests of our parishes each do their part
Our spiritual soul-friends who pray from the heart
Callahan, Egan, to name just a few.
Two of the holy men that we all knew.
We have our Italian, Korean and Jew,
Our German and P.R., Black African too,
But our pubs and our priests and our music and song
Our culture and language all help us belong.
I grew up with all kinds of people around
Yet I always knew that beloved sound
of the pipe and accordion, fiddle and drum
Keeping memories alive whence we had come.
In Ireland they call us the Yankee cousins
May they never forget we were exiled by sins
of poverty, politics, prisons and then
We fled to America, new life to begin.
Or we are the children of those exiles
and we learned from our parents’ tears and smiles
“Remember your heritage, sing out with pride
Remember dear Ireland here in County Woodside.”
Forced away, scattered, yet one Irish heart
Connected by roots, ‘tho we’re far apart
We are of Erin and her thirty-three
We’re County Woodside far over the sea!
We send for our people back in Ireland
But many a person can misunderstand
the sorrow that’s felt when one travels from home
Here in County Woodside they’ll not be alone.
Here in the new land it’s like Peter’s gate
Luigi and Hans, Mohammed and Kate.
Emigrate, Immigrate, Assimilate
Cling to your heritage, it’s not too late.
Here in America blood becomes crossed
But our ethnic history needn’t be lost
Each nationality and unique trait
With its own richness makes this country great.
We are of Ireland ‘tho citizens here
Our Celtic connection makes it very clear
Daly, Farrell and Reilly and Finnegans we
Hourigans, Lawlors on this family tree
Corrigan, Cronin and Dugan and Walsh
Irish hearts true not one of them false
Growing up Irish in County Woodside
Was home far from home on the other side.
Wherever I travel, wherever I go
I am of Ireland and always will know
That thirty-two counties on the other side
Created a thirty-third, County Woodside!