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| Lisdoonvarna By Christy Moore |
| Oh, Lisdoonvarna, Lisdoon-Lisdoon-Lisdoonvarna Oh, Lisdoonvarna, Lisdoon-Lisdoon-Lisdoonvarna How's it goin' there everybody? From Cork, New York, Dundalk, Gortahork and Glenamaddy? Here we are in the County Clare, it's a long, long way from here to there. There's the Burren & the Cliffs of Moher, and the Tulla & the Kilfenora, Miko Russell, Doctor Bill, Willy Clancy and Noel Hill. Flutes and fiddles everywhere, if it's music you want, You should go to Clare. Oh, Lisdoonvarna, Lisdoon-Lisdoon-Lisdoonvarna Everybody needs a break, climb a mountain or jump in a lake. Some head off to exotic places, others go to the Galway Races. Mattie goes to the South of France, Jim to the dogs, Peter to the dance. A cousin of mine goes potholin', a cousin of hers loves Joe Dolan. Summer comes around each year, we go there and they come here. Some jet off to ... Frijiliana, but I always go to Lisdoonvarna. Oh, Lisdoonvarna, Lisdoon-Lisdoon-Lisdoonvarna I always leave on a Tursday night, with me tent & me groundsheet rolled up tight. I like to hit Lisdoon, in around Friday afternoon. This gives me time to get me gear together, I don't need to worry 'bout the weather. Ramble in for a pint of stout, and you'd never know who'd be hangin' about. Look, there's a Dutchman playing a mandolin, And a German looking for Liam Óg O'Floinn. And there's Adam, Bono and Garrett Fitzgerald, Gettin' their photos taken for the Sunday World. Finbar Furey, Charlie and Jim Hand, drinkin' pints to bate the band...Ain't it grand? Oh, Lisdoonvarna, Lisdoon-Lisdoon-Lisdoonvarna The multitudes, they flocked in throngs, to hear the music and the songs. Motorbikes and Hi-ace vans, with bottles, barrels, flagons, cans. Mighty craic. Loads of frolics, Pioneers and alcoholics, PLAC, SPUC and the FCA, Free Nicky Kelly and the IRA. Hairy chests and milk-white thighs, and mickey dodgers in disguise. McGraths, O'Briens, Pippins, Coxs, massage parlours in horse boxes. There's amhráns, bodhráns, amadáns, RTE are makin' tapes, takin' breaks and throwin' shapes. Arab sheiks, Hindu Sikhs, Jesus freaks, This is heaven! This is hell! Who cares? Who can tell? (Anyone for the last few Choc Ices, now?) Oh, Lisdoonvarna, Lisdoon-Lisdoon-Lisdoonvarna A 747 for Jackson Browne, they had to build a special runway just to get him down. Before the Chieftains could start to play, 7 creamy pints came out on a tray. Shergar was ridden by Lord Lucan, Seán Cannon did the backstage cookin'. Clannad were playing 'Harry's Game', Christy was singing 'Nancy Spain'. Mary O'Hara and Brush Shields, together singin' 'The Four Green Fields'. Van the Man and Emmy Lou, Moving Hearts and Planxty too! Oh, Lisdoonvarna, Lisdoon-Lisdoon-Lisdoonvarna Everybody needs a break, climb a mountain or jump in a lake. Oliver J. Flanagan goes swimming in the Holy Sea. Sean Doherty goes to the Rose of Tralee, But I like the music and the open air, so every summer I go to Clare. 'Coz Woodstock, Knock nor the Feast of Cana, Can hold a match to Lisdoonvarna. Oh, Lisdoonvarna, Lisdoon-Lisdoon-Lisdoonvarna Oh, Lisdoonvarna, Lisdoon-Lisdoon-Lisdoonvarna SPUC: Society for the Protection of Unborn Children. FCA: Feis Ceoil Association, dedicated to Irish music and dance. RTE: Radio Telefís Éireann, the Irish broadcasting service. |
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