Melodious tale

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At the turn of the century there had been no music to play

I heard a woman humming a tune, lyrics once written in Kilkenny

Everyone had to leave, tears in the countries eyes

old folks and children waving goodbye

Some gone off to England, on the boats to a far off place called America

Wife’s, lovers and mistresses pens in their hands

Thoughts and emotions spill onto paper

Please send money soon, there is hardly any food

Clothes on our backs are nothing more good than rags

No music to play at the turn of the century

Hearing the old wind cry for our heritage

Our history had been never written

It was always sung and spoken

At the turn of the century there had been no music to play

Everyone has gone with history in their pockets

ladies hum an old Irish song

All the men wave goodbye across the far sea to die

Melodious tale

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