Folk Singer

 

I saw a folk singer Saturday night

In a room I hadn’t haunted in years

His voice and the Guinness had not aged a day

But since I’ve gone grey in the beard

 

Just when I’m out it draws me back in

Like a moon song wrestles the tide

Just when I forget a song I remember

Paul Brady’s Arthur McBride

 

Close is the steel pulled across spruce

And home is wood from the rose

Honest the hands that tease out the tune

Then hung from the neck I suppose

 

Just when I’m out it draws me back in

Like the Wexford fighting the lake

Just when I forget is when I remember

Luke and The Limerick Rake

 

A draw from a pipe is a portrait in coal

Savoured like smoke in a fire

Warming my back like a long ago Christmas

Funny how memories conspire

 

Just when I’m out it draws me back in

Like a Jack Pine on Algonquin rocks

Just when I forget a song I remember

The Lads O’ The Fair Leith Docks

 

Close to the lights but well in the darkness

Close to the sound but away

And in this small room to fumble with language

To know it will still end this way

 

Just when I’m out it draws me back in

Like playing on St. Patrick’s Day

Just when I forget a song I remember

When Ye Go Away

© Michael Worthington Music 2014

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