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George, a typical Irish wake? No wonder they call Notre Dame's football team the fighting Irish.

Cheer, cheer for old Notre Dame,
Wake up the echos cheering her name,
Send a volley cheer on high,
Shake down the thunder from the sky.
What though the odds be great or small
Old Notre Dame will win over all,
While her loyal sons are marching
Onward to victory.

And then there are other lyrics:

We never falter we never fall,
We sober up on wood alcohol.


and in New York:
"....you take the Notre; we'll take the dame..."

Bob, I do wonder if John Wayne was Irish? I think I saw The Quiet Man. John and Maureen?

Maureen O'Hara also played the lead in Spencer's Mountain, methinks.

and speaking of the fighting Irish, listeners. I was surprised to find this bit of info involving The Corrs and U2:

http://www.thecorrsrock.co.uk/articles/irishindependent050302.html

Some distressing news from here in Florida:

Jessica Lunsford from here in Florida has not been found. She has been missing since February when she either left or was taken from her bedroom.

My gut feeling is ...he's innocent in her disappearance.

Thanks, Bob, for that update. I'm with Panz, however. I don't think that man is the one.

Well, listeners, it just occured to me that March is also Women's History Month. Any particular woman that you would like to dedicate a song to?

OR:


American Woman Lyrics
Artist(Band):The Guess Who







(Bachman-Cummings-Kale-Peterson)
(Prologue)
American woman gonna mess your mind
American woman, she gonna mess your mind
American woman gonna mess your mind
American woman gonna mess your mind
Say A,
Say M,
Say E,
Say R,
Say I,
Say C,
Say A,
Say N,
American woman gonna mess your mind
American woman gonna mess your mind
American woman gonna mess your mind

American woman, stay away from me
American woman, mama let me be
Don't come hangin' around my door
I don't wanna see your face no more
I got more important things to do
Than spend my time growin' old with you
Now woman, I said stay away,
American woman, listen what I say.

American woman, get away from me
American woman, mama let me be
Don't come knockin' around my door
Don't wanna see your shadow no more
Coloured lights can hypnotize
Sparkle someone else's eyes
Now woman, I said get away
American woman, listen what I say.

American woman, said get away
American woman, listen what I say
Don't come hangin' around my door
Don't wanna see your face no more
I don't need your war machines
I don't need your ghetto scenes
Coloured lights can hypnotize
Sparkle someone else's eyes
Now woman, get away from me
American woman, mama let me be.

Go, gotta get away, gotta get away
Now go go go
Gonna leave you, woman
Gonna leave you, woman
Bye-bye
Bye-bye
Bye-bye
Bye-bye
You're no good for me
I'm no good for you
Gonna look you right in the eye.
Tell you what I'm gonna do
You know I'm gonna leave
You know I'm gonna go
You know I'm gonna leave
You know I'm gonna go, woman
I'm gonna leave, woman
Goodbye, American woman
Goodbye, American chick
Goodbye, American broad ...

Heh! Heh! Some prologue, huh?

I saw some American women who came into a bar in Dallas, Texas, summer of '77. God, they were frightening, glittery-eyed, scowling, brassy, overdressed, overweight. I still remember those women- not typical I'm sure.

I think Canucks are chagrined when they hear that...sillyness

I remember some birds in a Welsh pub circa '68...overwight, clothes too tight and an ungodly amount of eyeliner...not typical of course...lol

I'm going in a pub tonight where we go every week and the women are ....... the same as Pan's Welsh ones. And much too loud. So why do we go there? You can always get a seat in the corner, and it's handy. Not good to drive too far to get to a bar.

don't get me wrong...I love those welsh pubs...there's nothing like them stateside...especially the facilities...a trench to the back pasture...lol

Heh! Heh!

Well, listeners, Susan B. Anthony wasn't exactly a looker nor was she a bar babe, but her dollar is now a collector's item.

Hey, Europe. International Women's day started in your small neck of the woods. Surely you can think of someone!

Dr. Rice is lovely, but...........................................

Saints preserve us! What will the American Congress do next:

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&cid=571&ncid=571&e=4&u=/nm/20050317/hl_nm/rights_schiavo_congress_dc_3

That poor woman!

I do NOT understand why Yahoo won't allow me to post a link. Anyway the sum and substance is that legislators are breaking their necks trying to get a law passed that will keep Terry Schiavo alive. (if one may call it that). I am stunned at what our government is becoming, folks.

sick ain't it?

Yes, dys.

Well, listeners. The news of the Terry problem affects all of us, I think.

Tonight her husband declared that the government will be making decisions for us should they attempt to dictate how we live and die.

Think on this for a moment: Were you in the same situation, what would you do, be it the guardians or the ones in the vegetative state.

Well, as St. Patrick's day winds down, I ask myself. Hey! Why isn't there a WASP day.

Back later, my cyber friends to sing all a goodnight song.

IF I WAS A BLACKBIRD

I am a young sailor, my story is sad
For once I was carefree and a bold sailor lad
I courted a lassie by night and by day
But now she has left me and gone far away

CHO: Oh if I was a blackbird, could whistle and sing
I'd follow the vessel my true love sails in
And in the top rigging I would there build my nest
And I'd flutter my wings o'er her lily-white breast

Or if I was a scholar and could handle a pen
One secret love letter to my true love I'd send
And I'd tell of my sorrow, my grief and my pain
Since she's gone and left me in yon flowery glen

I sailed o'er the ocean, my fortune to seek
Though I missed her caress and her kiss on my cheek
I returned and I told her my love was still warm
But she turned away lightly and great was her scorn

I offered to take her to Donnybrook Fair
And to buy her fine ribbons to tie up her hair
I offered to marry and to stay by her side
But she said in the morning she sailed with the tide

My parents they chide me, and will not agree
Saying that me and my false love married should never be
Ah but let them deprive me, or let them do what they will
While there's breath in my body, she's the one that I love still

Recorded by Andy Stewart

Bob, that melody sounded familiar.

Sweet Betsy from Pike?

The Pussy cat song?

And I am reminded of the fate of the giant panda. They are so very adorable and may not be able to perpetuate themselves.

So many alternate melodies.

Listeners, let us all pledge to do what will affect us all, be we Irish, English, German, Dutch, Danish, any country that we know,
And Norway don't you dare let go.

Goodnight my friends:

Bogie's Bonny Belle

Ae mercat day near Huntly toon, 'twas there I did agree
Wi' a farmer oot oe' Bogieside a twelvemonth for tae fee
Tae drive his twa best horses, tae caird or hairy or plo
or da onything abbot farm work as I rachet weel could do

Noo Bogie he'd a dochter and her name was Isabella
She was the lily oe' the valley, the primrose oe' the dell
and when Belle she gaed oot welkin' she chose me for her guide
dion by the burn oe' Carnie, tae see the sima' fish glide

I pit ma arms abbot her waist an' tae the grand did slide
'twas there I had my first braw niched wi' the Belle oe' Bogieside

Noo six months they bean' ower an' past this lassie lost her bloom
oh, the red fell frae her bonny cheeks an' her eyes began tae swoon
an' nine months they bean' ower an' past she brachet forth tae me a son
an' I wis quickly sent for, tae see what could be done

Weel I said that I wid marry her, but no, that widen da
Oh yare nae match for Isabelle, an' she's nae match for ye

Weel she's mairried tae a tinker noo an' they bide near Huntly toon
selwyn' pots and pans and paraffin lamps through a' the country roan
an' maybe Belle's cotan a better match, auld Bogie's share tae tell
sae farewell ye lads oe' Huntley toon, an' tae Bogie's bonny Belle.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

Jazz Police


Can you tell me why the bells are ringing
Nothing's happened in a million years
I've been sitting here since Wednesday morning
Wednesday morning can't believe my ears
Jazz police are looking through my folders
Jazz police are talking to my niece
Jazz police have got their final orders
Jazzer, drop your axe, it's Jazz police!

Jesus taken serious by the many
Jesus taken joyous by a few
Jazz police are paid by J. Paul Getty
Jazzers paid by J. Paul Getty II

Jazz police I hear you calling
Jazz police I feel so blue
Jazz police I think I'm falling,
I'm falling for you

Wild as any freedom loving racist
I applaud the actions of the chief
Tell me now oh beautiful and spacious
Am I in trouble with the Jazz police

Jazz police are looking through my folders ...

They will never understand our culture
They'll never understand the Jazz police
Jazz police are working for my mother
Blood is thicker margarine than grease

Let me be somebody I admire
Let me be that muscle down the street
Stick another turtle on the fire
Guys like me are mad for turtle meat

Jazz police I hear you calling
Jazz police I feel so blue
Jazz police I think I'm falling,
I'm falling for you