 sj |
||
|
||
Lyr Req: Irish gay marriage songs
|
|
|
|||||||
|
Lyr Req: Irish gay marriage songs |
Share Thread
|
||||||
|
Subject: Lyr Req: Irish gay marriage songs From: GUEST,Singlouderthanguns Date: 26 May 15 - 06:55 PM Hi folks - I wonder if there are any rewrites of Irish trad songs to celebrate or satirise the gay marriage vote in Ireland last week. Hope someone can help! |
|
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish gay marriage songs From: Jack Campin Date: 26 May 15 - 07:47 PM MacTavish is wed and his husband does know it, His husband is wed and MacTavish can show it, They're both of them wed in the very same bed And they can stay wedded until they are dead. |
|
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish gay marriage songs From: Dave Hanson Date: 27 May 15 - 04:09 AM Come Back Paddy Riley to Marry James Duff, Dave H |
|
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish gay marriage songs From: MartinRyan Date: 27 May 15 - 04:51 AM I'll tell me ma when I go home The boys won't leave the boys alone... Regards |
|
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish gay marriage songs From: MartinRyan Date: 27 May 15 - 04:54 AM Are ye right there, Michael, are ye right? Have ye got the parcel there for Mister Right... Regards |
|
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish gay marriage songs From: eftifino Date: 27 May 15 - 07:53 AM His eyes, they shone like diamonds, I thought him the Queen of the Land, With his hair hung over his shoulders, Tied up with a Black Leather Band. |
|
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish gay marriage songs From: GUEST,Malcolm Storey Date: 27 May 15 - 01:05 PM Mick Dunne and/or Fergus Russell are probably writing something as I type. |
|
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Irish gay marriage songs From: Thompson Date: 28 May 15 - 02:06 AM Dónal Óg has been a gay anthem for some time; in Lady Gregory's translation: Donal Og It is late last night the dog was speaking of you; the snipe was speaking of you in her deep marsh. It is you are the lonely bird through the woods; and that you may be without a mate until you find me. You promised me, and you said a lie to me, that you would be before me where the sheep are flocked; I gave a whistle and three hundred cries to you, and I found nothing there but a bleating lamb. You promised me a thing that was hard for you, a ship of gold under a silver mast; twelve towns with a market in all of them, and a fine white court by the side of the sea. You promised me a thing that is not possible, that you would give me gloves of the skin of a fish; that you would give me shoes of the skin of a bird; and a suit of the dearest silk in Ireland. When I go by myself to the Well of Loneliness, I sit down and I go through my trouble; when I see the world and do not see my boy, he that has an amber shade in his hair. It was on that Sunday I gave my love to you; the Sunday that is last before Easter Sunday and myself on my knees reading the Passion; and my two eyes giving love to you for ever. My mother has said to me not to be talking with you today, or tomorrow, or on the Sunday; it was a bad time she took for telling me that; it was shutting the door after the house was robbed. My heart is as black as the blackness of the sloe, or as the black coal that is on the smith's forge; or as the sole of a shoe left in white halls; it was you put that darkness over my life. You have taken the east from me, you have taken the west from me; you have taken what is before me and what is behind me; you have taken the moon, you have taken the sun from me; and my fear is great that you have taken God from me! |
| Share Thread: |