copied from the liner notes of JF MURPHY & SALT ((c) 1972 ELECTRA 75024)
Recorded in concert at The University of Hartford, Hartford, Conn.
Nassau Community College, Garden City, N.Y. (where I was lucky to see them)
Trenton State College, Trenton N.J.
THE EXAMPLE
by JF Murphy (c) 1970
This is a song about the abortive "Easter rebellion" of 1916 which took place in Dublin
One Easter morn in Dublin fair
The streets ran crimson red.
The sons of Sinn Fein rose as one,
But fell apart and dead.
Their cause was just and right of course,
So God went with each gun.
Their plans and hopes and faith destroyed
As if betrayed by one. It's a hard road,
It's an oh, so hard road.
The leaders knew what they must do
To keep the cause alive;
Give the kiss of death to him
Where Judas still survived.
How they found him no one knows,
A lad of twenty one.
They brought him to a cold, cold wall
And left him when they'd done
It's a hard road,
It's an oh, so hard road.
'Round the bend raced Jaime Shannon;
It was his way, so no one gave a second thought.
He's a queer one, that one,
He sits and drinks all day
And says his beads the whole night long,
The misbegotten fruit of Annie Shannon's deeds
And Father Cochran's needs.
To the wall, to the wall.
If someone has to go, well,
It might as well be him,
But the Judas goat will have his way
And we'll make the example of him.
It's a hard road,
It's an oh, so hard road.
There's always a cause to be saved;
There's always a God to be brave to;
There's always examples in an early grave.
God help Jaime Shannons ev'rywhere.
FIRST BORN
by JF Murphy (c) 1970
For my son Jamie
If I had my way
I'd take my first-born child
And teach him all I knew
Just to try to keep him wild,
Only if I had the things
I need to keep him wild.
I know they'll try to tame him
Give him ties and dress white shirts.
As soon as they have framed him
Will they make him go to church?
But he can love God in his own way
If he's got a mind.
WAITING HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC
by JF Murphy (c) 1970
I wrote this because we already have the other hymn of the republic.
Waiting for a train, pretending that a friend is coming home to stay.
I sit and wait and watch here almost every day.
If I could I'd pray, but he's gone, yes, he's gone.
We used to play and sing in the years when the time went slow.
His songs are half-remembered smiles of long ago.
There to let you know that he's gone, yes he's gone.
Just to hear him sing once more would be enough to get by.
Then one day he packed his bags and dressed in tan to go to war.
No one even knew what he was headed for.
But they were proud yes, so loudly proud.
It must be a month now since the cable came that said he won't be home.
The people were so very nice when they phoned,
But oh God, it's cold, its too cold, too cold to get by.
SILVER HORN
by JF Murphy (c) 1971
This song is based on an Irish myth about a young man of somewhat
dubious moral fibre who passed himself off as a leprechaun.
There's been many an elbow in many a pub
That's many times drunk for this tale
All the dart games would stop and the room would go hush
And the teller would sip at his ale
First he'd finish his pint and he'd perch on the bar
But he knew that he'd never go dry
While his story was yet to be told
'Twas in a small parish in Balleghadrereen
Many years ago
They held a church dance to which everyone came
Except that no fiddlers did show
All the people grew restless and ready to leave
For a dance is no dance without fiddlers to play
When all of a sudden appeared at the door
A young man who had this to say
Chorus:
I've a silver horn for to play all your songs
Send all your troubles away
And all I ask is one fair lass
Until your night turns to day
Well he played on his horn till the stroke of twelve
In a green velvet case, then he packed it away
I've played and I've played and you've danced to my songs
Now it's my turn it's done and it's your turn to pay
The pastor stepped up and he puffed out his chest
He cleared out his throat and proceeded to say
"We'll pay you with silver, we'll pay you with gold
But nary one girl will you get for your pay
The young man said "Father you don't understand
I'm a leprechaun sent here from fairyland
We must crown a queen before night turns to day
Or the wee folk will sadden and soon fade away"
The priest said "In that case you're no mortal man
And no damage can do to her fair reputation"
So the young man he left with his colleen in hand
Singing his own incantation
Chorus
COUNTRY JAM
by JF Murphy (c) 1971
This has no real social, political,
econoomic importance, but it's fun to do.
Why I'm feelin' lonely
Why I'm feelin' sad
I lost my country woman
She was the best one I ever had
Chorus:
But she's gone
Back on the farm
Yes, she's gone
And I'm fresh out of sweet country jam
Lost my country woman
'Bout half a year ago
Ain't had no country lovin'
Since no, no, no
I had my city woman
You know I had them all
None can compare
With my down home country doll
SOFT SEPTEMBER
by JF Murphy (c) 1970
This is a rather personal song I wrote in one of my more lucid moments.
September rain falls gently on my mind
as it passes through the closing gates of summer.
A golden leaf, the remnant of a season,
yet the herald of another.
The days grow less kind to me
as they bind to me a long loved memory.
As my mind shakes me, memory takes me
through the years forlorn safe inside a song.
I remember living, I remember laughing,
I remember loving you.
Once upon a soft September.
Ah yes, I remember you well
with the afternoon sun shining on your face.
Lately I fing I talk to myself,
I guess trying to mend what time can't erase.
Through the corridors of time I'd go,
Through a lonely maze of rhymes I'd go
Just to hear you speak,
just to feel you breathe on me.
I still go down to the hill
where you lay when the afternoon sun is shining.
More often than not the flowers of May
linger there while the North wind is pining.
The days seemed much warmer them,
even near the end.
Yes, love had its day.
As I think of you, things we used to do,
my mind is softly clothed
Safe inside a song.
I remember living, I remember laughing,
I rememember loving you.
Once upon a soft September.
KANSAS CITY
by Jerry Lieber and Mike Stoller (c) 1959
This features Joe Parrino on lead vocal and lead guitar
and has some nice harp work by Geoprge Christ
and sax insanity from Ron Allard.
Well I'm goin' on home, got to get right on back,
to Kansas City town, I'm going' home.
Look out mama here I come, they got some women there,
got to get me one.
Gonna be on that corner 12th Street and Vine,
I'm gonna be, gonna be, gonna be, gonna be, gonna be,
gonna be on that corner 12th Street and Vine,
with my woman and pink Chablis wine.
Might take a plane, might take a truck,
but if I don't get there I don't give one...
Goin' on home, look out mama here I come,
they got some women there, you know I'm gonna get me one.
Bye bye...got to move it back on home...yeah yeah yeah.
IF WISHES WERE HORSES
by JF Murphy (c) 1971
there would be a lot less road apples in the White House.
You may say it's a childish dream;
Maybe so, I cannot rightly say.
All I know is that children at play,
never carry their hatred for more than a day.
Chorus:
If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.
No one would go without a meal.
Uniforms would turn to dust, we'd be on the same side;
And every king and president would know just how we feel.
There's been war for a long, long time.
This I know for I am no fool.
Sometimes I wish that we could send all the leaders back to school,
and teach them that people are not tools.
Chorus
There's a song that we all can sing,
in the hopes that the words will come true.
Sing it out loud and strong,
for us, not for me or for you.
Chorus
check out the company they kept on May 20, 1971:
http://www.fillmore-east.com/showlist.html
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