WA2K Radio is now on the air, Part 3

Lisa Hannigan - - Lille

Lisa Hannigan - - Knots

Lisa Hannigan - - Little bird

Lisa Hannigan - - Undertow

Lisa Hannigan - - Venn Diagram

Lisa Hannigan - - Somebody that i used to know (cover of a song by Aussie artist Gotye)...(better)

Christy Moore - - Ride On

Christy Moore - - Ordinary Man

Christy Moore - - Back home in Derry

The Reel in the Flickering Light.

As I was walking home one evenin'
I know this takes some believin'
I met a group of creatures
With the strangest lookin' features

A poor old dove and a worm in the weed
And a fine old pigeon, yes indeed
A daddy longlegs jumpet sprite
As he danced to the reel in the flickering light
Oh round we go, heel to the toe
And the daddy longlegs jumpet sprite
As he danced to the reel in the flickering light

On his thin and wispy spindles
He was deft and he was nimble
His eyes were scientific
And his dancing was terrific

And the rats and worms they made a din
And the nettles in the corners took it in
"Oh God" says I, "Tonight's the night"
"We'll dance to the reel in the flickering light"
Oh round we go, heel to the toe
"Oh God" says I "tonight's the night
We'll dance to the reel in the flickering light"

Then he looked at me directly
With a gaze that could dissect me
Then he asked me in a whisper
"Have you got any sisters?"

"Oh God almighty" says I to him
"What sort of a man d'you think I am?
I've only one she's not your type
She wouldn't dance the reel in the flickering light"
So round we go, heel to the toe
"I've only one she's not your type
She wouldn't dance a reel in the flickering light"

Says he:
"Does she come from another planet?
Does she got a bee in her bonnet?
Does she do her daily duties
You never know we might be suited"

And the rats and the worms began in to laugh
And some of them started shufflin' off
We're goin' to have some fun tonight
Getting ready for the reel in the flickering light
Oh round we go, heel to the toe
We're goin' to have some fun tonight
Getting ready for the reel in the flickering light

I could see he had no scruples
When I looked into his pupils
They were purple or magenta
Like a statue during lent

I said "I'll get her right away"
"Good man" says he "now don't delay"
We're going to have some fun tonight
And he flicked his legs in the flickering light.
Oh round we go, heel to the toe
We're goin' to have some fun tonight
And he flicked his legs in the flickering light.

Then up stepped a red carnation
And they gave her an ovation
She was warm and enchatin'
As she slowly started dancin'

And the wise old pigeon peeled his eye.
And the nettles and the weeds began to sigh.
Daddy longlegs said "my-oh-my
Are we ready for the reel in the flickering light?"
Oh round we go, heel to the toe
Daddy longlegs said "my-oh-my
Are we ready for the reel in the flickering light?"

She was gentle, she was charmin'
And I heard him call her "darlin'
He was graceful as a whisper
On his delicate legs of silver

And the rats and worms were still as mice
And the poor old pigeon said "That's nice"
As shimmering there, ah, the lovely bride
As they danced to the reel in the flickering light
Oh round we go, heel to the toe
As shimmering there, ah, the lovely bride
As they danced to the reel in the flickering light

Oh round we go, heel to the toe
As shimmering there, ah, the lovely bride
As they danced to the reel in the flickering light

Christy Moore - - The Reel in the Flickering Light.

William Butler Yeats - The Song of Wandering Aengus.

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

Christy Moore - - The Song of Wandering Aengus



Donovan recorded this too. I know which one i prefer.

St. Brendan’s Voyage

A boat sailed out of Brandon in the year of 501
’twas a damp and dirty mornin’ Brendan’s voyage it began.
Tired of thinnin’ turnips and cuttin’ curley kale
When he got back from the creamery he hoisted up the sail.
He ploughed a lonely furrow to the north, south, east and west
Of all the navigators, St. Brendan was the best.
When he ran out of candles he was forced to make a stop,
He tied up in Long Island and put America on the map.
Did you know that Honolulu was found by a Kerryman,
Who went on to find Australia then China and Japan.
When he was touchin’ 70, he began to miss the crack,
Turnin’ to his albatross he sez “I’m headin’ back”.

To make it fast he bent the mast and built up mighty steam.
Around Terra del Fuego and up the warm Gulf Stream,
He crossed the last horizon, Mt. Brandon came in sight
And when he cleared the customs into Dingle for the night.
When he got the Cordon Bleu he went to douse the drought,
He headed west to Kruger’s* to murder pints of stout
Around by Ballyferriter and up the Conor Pass
He freewheeled into Brandon, the saint was home at last.

The entire population came (281) the place was chock-a-block
Love nor money wouldn’t get your nose inside the shop.
The fishermen hauled up their nets, the farmers left their hay,
Kerry people know that saints don’t turn up every day.
Everythin’ was goin’ great ’til Brendan did announce
His reason for returnin’ was to try and set up house.
The girls were flabbergasted at St. Bredan’s neck
To seek a wife so late in life and him a total wreck.

Worn down by rejection that pierced his humble pride,
“Begod”, sez Brendan “If I run I’ll surely catch the tide”
Turnin’ on his sandals he made straight for the docks
And haulin’ up his anchor he cast off from the rocks.
As he sailed past Inishvickallaun there stood the albatross
“I knew you’d never stick it out, ’tis great to see you boss”
“I’m bailin’ out” sez Brendan, “I badly need a break
A fortnight is about as much as any aul saint could take.”

CHORUS

“Is it right or left for Gibraltar”
“What tack do I take for Mizen Head?”
“I’d love to settle down near Ventry Harbour”,
St. Brendan to his albatross he said.

Christy Moore - - St Brendan's Voyage

Dave Greenfield keyboard player with the Stranglers died last week aged 71.
He was with the band for 45 years. Another victim of the coronavirus.

Florian Schneider recently passed away. He was co-founder of Kraftwerk a German electronic band formed in Düsseldorf in 1970

Kraftwerk - - The Model

Leonard Cohen - - So long Marianne.

Bia Ferreira - Aquela Moça

Bomba Estéreo - To My Love

Georges Brassens - Le Pluriel


"Cher monsieur, m'ont-ils dit, vous en êtes un autre",
Lorsque je refusai de monter dans leur train.
Oui, sans doute, mais moi, j'fais pas le bon apôtre,
Moi, je n'ai besoin de personne pour en être un.

Le pluriel ne vaut rien à l'homme et sitôt qu'on
Est plus de quatre on est une bande de cons.
Bande à part, sacrebleu! c'est ma règle et j'y tiens.
Dans les noms des partants on n'verra pas le mien.

Dieu! que de processions, de monomes, de groupes,
Que de rassemblements, de cortèges divers,
Que de ligues, que de cliques, que de meutes, que de troupes!
Pour un tel inventaire il faudrait un Prévert.

Le pluriel ne vaut rien à l'homme et sitôt qu'on
Est plus de quatre on est une bande de cons.
Bande à part, sacrebleu! c'est ma règle et j'y tiens.
Parmi les cris des loups on n'entend pas le mien.

Oui, la cause était noble, était bonne, était belle!
Nous étions amoureux, nous l'avons épousée.
Nous souhaitions être heureux tous ensemble avec elle,
Nous étions trop nombreux, nous l'avons défrisée.

Le pluriel ne vaut rien à l'homme et sitôt qu'on
Est plus de quatre on est une bande de cons.
Bande à part, sacrebleu! c'est ma règle et j'y tiens.
Parmi les noms d'élus on n'verra pas le mien.

Je suis celui qui passe à côté des fanfares
Et qui chante en sourdine un petit air frondeur.
Je dis, à ces messieurs que mes notes effarent:
" Tout aussi musicien que vous, tas de bruiteurs! "

Le pluriel ne vaut rien à l'homme et sitôt qu'on
Est plus de quatre on est une bande de cons.
Bande à part, sacrebleu! c'est ma règle et j'y tiens.
Dans les rangs des pupitres on n'verra pas le mien.

Pour embrasser la dame, s'il faut se mettre à douze,
J'aime mieux m'amuser tout seul, cré nom de nom!
Je suis celui qui reste à l'écart des partouzes.
L'obélisque est-il monolithe, oui ou non?

Le pluriel ne vaut rien à l'homme et sitôt qu'on
Est plus de quatre on est une bande de cons.
Bande à part, sacrebleu! c'est ma règle et j'y tiens.
Au faisceau des phallus on n'verra pas le mien.

Pas jaloux pour un sou des morts des hécatombes,
J'espère être assez grand pour m'en aller tout seul.
Je ne veux pas qu'on m'aide à descendre à la tombe,
Je partage n'importe quoi, pas mon linceul.

Le pluriel ne vaut rien à l'homme et sitôt qu'on
Est plus de quatre on est une bande de cons.
Bande à part, sacrebleu! c'est ma règle et j'y tiens.
Au faisceau des tibias on n'verra pas les miens.

JJ Cale - - They call me the breeze.

BB King - - The thrill is gone.