Padraig lalor

Padraig lalor

BandPopSinger/Songwriter

"Padraig is a breath of fresh air, a singer songwriter with something serious to say in his songs that carry deep narratives of history. Where other songwriters might explore their relationship with the human condition, Padraig goes beyond the personal, yet peoples his work with real characters and personalities. His songs are utterly believable and will resonate into the future. His work is brave and challenging, it often asks difficult questions and analyses the status quo for its inherent con

Biography

Padraig was born in Belfast. He lived his formative years in the 1970s against the backdrop of the troubles in Northern Ireland. He worked as a freelance journalist in the 1980s; becoming Northern Irish correspondent for the Irish Post, before gaining a Scholarship to Ruskin College Oxford. It was in Oxford he formed the Traditional Irish band Henry Marten's Ghost and started writing songs in the late 1990s.

A fascination with his country's musical history and a love of the stories that permeate its culture, bring an engaging authenticity to his songs. Capturing the passion and contradiction of the people and places of Belfast has seen Padraig earn the reputation of a modern day Seanachaí. Not surprising perhaps, that he lists both the great Irish Tenor Josef Locke, and Belfast's Kathleen Largey amongst his key musical influences.

Padraig's music has featured on TV & radio across the world. He has opened shows for Finbar Furey, the Dubliners, Craobh Rua and has taken his individual brand of Irish music to audiences in France, Norway, Netherlands, Belgium and the Channel Islands, where he is a perennial visitor.

His debut solo album Ismay’s Dream is an evocative journey through Ireland's Titanic history that will appeal to anyone who loves great stories and great songs.

Lyrics

62 Seconds

Written By: Padraig Lalor

62 seconds
V1
From her home on the Arrol gantry, towering 11 storeys high,
Rising up like an angel, over the Belfast city sky,
24,000 tons of steel the band she had to wear,
Seducing those by the waters edge, who couldn’t help but stare?

Chorus 1
62 seconds was all it took for her to leave, 62 seconds and she was gone. Rich and poor came to watch draped in their finery,
But it took her 90 years to return,
V2
The klaxon summons workers for a shift to begin,
A day filled with hard labour and the shipyards’ din,
Smoke billows from chimneys blurs an eerie sunrise,
Her suitors take their turn admiration in their eyes,

(Key change)
She looked Ben Madigan in the eye as he gazed down from cave hill,
Then tipped a wink at Albert’s clock giving him a mighty thrill,
A work of art her stature rose above them all,
The debutante had come of age and she stood tall,

SOLO
V3
She left her home in May to the sounds of cheering men,
Who had spent 3 years crafting her every curve?
With elegance and grace she slipped into the sunlight,
Casting a shadow as she sounded her last farewell,

Chorus 2

62 seconds was all it took her to leave, 62 seconds and she was gone
Rich and poor watched draped in their finery,
But it took her 90 years to return,

Outro

But it took her
But it took her
But it took her

90 years to return

90 years to return

If you read the times

90 years to return

Lyrics & music by Padraig Lalor

Ismay's dream

Written By: Padraig lalor & Andy Collins

Ismays Dream

Dear God what have I done,
Am I the only one?
To carry the burden of this hope, this expectation
I chanced my hand to see,
A better life for me,
And show the world what could be done,
By this proud nation.

The winter’s getting colder now,
I’m cursed with getting older,
I close my eyes, I can still see fading lights, and hear the screams.
Perhaps these thoughts will fade with time,
They occupy my waking mind,
I’m to live the nightmare that was born out of my dream.

In the Belfast yard the plans were laid,
For the biggest liners ever made,
Forging of a legacy handed down, to me from old,
It was my fathers wish to see
The white star line rule the seas
By placing inspiration on the shoulders of the past

In Ireland a sanctuary I found,
Costello Lodge in Galway,
I could lay these ghosts to rest and leave the past behind,
But the press would not let that be,
They mocked and made a coward of me,
Judge me not by actions, be they right or be they wrong

1911 walkout

Written By: Padraig Lalor

Some people came from the green fields of Ulster Most came from the back-street slums All searching for work in the linen industry There’s a call for flax to be spun

The year it was 19 hundred and 10 A time when mills ruled supreme Linen lords in Ireland Toasted new found riches
On the backs of the poor And their dreams

The factories were prisons for women and children Who worked on machines everyday Some fell to disease
Lungs black with the dust Others died on the floor where they lay

In 1911 a walk-out was called By the women who suffered the toil C’ m on all you spinners, you layers & Doffers
Half timers unite one & all

The bosses got angry as the strike took a hold Conditions were grim many times they’d been told They chose to be ignorant it was better that way……….for them

The strike it was broken Mills went on spinning
The death toll and injuries still high For women and children
Who slaved for a living Are waiting their turn to die

The average age was just 45 For a woman cut down in her prime To the linen lords of Ireland People will remember
Your part in this terrible crime

Thimbleful of the western wind

Written By: Nick Gray & Padraig lalor

Thimbleful of the western wind
V1
Whatever happened to the life you lead and to all the clever things you said to me, behind every bar there’s money to be spent, and a mirror where you can watch yourself fragment.

CHORUS

I’d send my thoughts to you but i don’t know where to begin, so i’ll just send to you a thimbleful of the western wind,

V2
And now i’m sad at heart for my lost friends is there nothing i can do or say that will bring you back again, so i’ll send you a blue mist stretching over the waves where a lonely woman tends the flowers on the graves

CHORUS

I’d send my thoughts to you but i don’t know where to begin, so i’ll just send to you a thimbleful of the western wind,

V3
So i’ll send you the silence and i’ll send you the space, and what might have happened in another time and place, now i’ll send you a rhythm that’ll give you a chance to listen to the music that makes the wild waves dance

CHORUS
I’d send my thoughts to you but i don’t know where to begin, so i’ll just send to you a thimbleful of the western wind, and from a harbour where the fishing boats come in and i’ll just send to you a thimbleful of the western wind

Jerome Burke

Written By: Padraig lalor

In the summer of 1915 a small bottle, Washed up on the sand, On the shoreline near Dunkettle County Cork, Thrown to the sea by a young hand, The message inside was a farewell, To a family who mourned a lost son, Given up by the tide, After 3000 miles, They could now lay to rest their loved one.

Goodbye to all from titanic, Were the last words of Jerome Burke? With a bottle of blessed water clutched in his hands, and the comfort of faith in his heart,

He followed the white star to America, When he boarded that April in Cork, Bidding adieu to his mother & father, Saying I’m on my way to New York, As the ship pulled away from the harbour, He looked on the land left behind, His last view of Ireland was daunt rock, A great sadness came into his mind,

As the tragedy unfolded before him, He scribbled the note as he prayed, Good bye to the Burkes of Glanmire, In the arms of Jesus I’ll lay, As the liner gave up to the ocean, The bottle he threw to the waves, It made its way back to the homeland, To be found now a treasure to save.

Goodbye to all from titanic, Were the last words of Jerome Burke? With a bottle of blessed water clutched in his hands, and the comfort of faith in his heart

Two Pennies

Written By: Padraig Lalor

Searching through a drawer one day
I found a small brown box
It contained two copper coins
They didn’t seem a lot
The date on them was 1912
That stirred my memory
Of my fathers’ final journey
On the north Atlantic sea

I watched with many thousands
As the ship left Belfast lough
Unsinkable I heard men say
She’s as great as the Albert Clock
I clutched the coins so tightly
As he put them in my hand
And the last thing that he said to me was
Save them till I return

Chorus
Two Pennies for your love, two pennies for luck
Keep them safe till I return for you
I’m sailing away bound for America
On a ship --------------

I was just a boy of four
On that April day
My mother died some weeks ago
Now my father must go away
To search for work in America
And to find for us a home
For me and my brother Tommy
It’s life for us alone

Years roll on and tears run dry
My memories are still fresh
This town had heroes on that ship
Its people know them best
At a gathering for our lost ones
I cried most bitterly
And I clutched the copper pennies
That daddy gave to me

Repeat chorus

Molly Brown

Written By: Padraig lalor

From the blood of Irish immigrants, Maggie Tobin was born, By the Mississippi River where she grew up with stories of the green isle and the hardships they did bear Her parents crossed the sea escaping famine and despair

She moved to Colorado at the age of 18 years
Married an Irish miner by the name of jj brown
In the little jonny mine he struck gold one summers day
They bought a house in Denver; the browns were on their way

It was on the titanic where she became legendry,
Bravely helping passengers escape calamity,
Thrown into a lifeboat as the ship was going down,
She survived to become the unsinkable molly brown,

While in lifeboat number six she kept the women calm,
Most had left their loved ones to the mercy of the sea,
She wanted to return there were survivors to be found,
The boat had space for others Hichins wouldn’t turn around,

The atmosphere was tense Maggie gave the order to row,
They watched the last flares in the night sky glow,
Above the stricken liner on the journey to its grave,
Maggie shouted we must go back there are many more to save,

They were picked up by carpathia and taken onboard,
Where she tended the saved in their hour of need,
A woman of principle Maggie Tobin was strong,
Her rise to a heroine didn’t take long,

It was on the titanic where she became legendry,
Bravely helping passengers escape calamity,
Thrown into a lifeboat as the ship was going down,
She survived to become the unsinkable molly brown,

you in his eyes

Written By: padraig lalor

Through a crack in a window, that’s shrouded & torn, The light hesitates, like another false dawn, Til the room fills with silence, I once knew before, Finding me in my dreams; losing you at my door. Through the streets tarred with bloodshed, I’m searching again. The barricades have all gone but the barriers remain, Til I see Model schoolboys helping Holy Girls cross, Crumlin Road where so many childhoods were lost

It’s been many life times the graves keep the score, Of those laid to unrest, in the Good Old Cause, Was order through their disorder won? Do they reign in hell or serve in heav’n?

I see your name on a wall, or was it the gaol? Hear your voice as I swing by the old Courthouse rails, And Millie looks on, standing quiet and still, Like the bombs that she made, as I turn to Shankhill. The Yellow Brick Road casts its gates open wide, Lost in my thoughts I fall in alongside A young boy playing war as he leads out his men, Not seeing the Gates are now closing again.

It’s been many life times the graves keep the scores, Of those laid to unrest, in the Good Old Cause, Was order through their disorder won? Do they reign in hell or serve in heav’n?

I wake to the cries of a boy left behind, The bars of his cage & the walls in his mind, To the life that I stole, instead of my own, And the debt I must pay, for a child left alone.
There’s no place to hide, & nowhere to run, For the man of unrest & the boy with a gun I stayed by his side, whenever he cried, Took his hand in my hand & found you in his eyes.

Final Chorus
Now the scars in the churchyard are healing once more, Not wounds of revenge but still green like before, The mind is its own place, thy will be done, To make a heav’n of hell or a hell of heav’n

Discography

Ireland a Troubled Romance 2002 (with Henry Marten's Ghost)
High on Spirits 2005 (with Henry Marten's Ghost)
Ismay's Dream 2012 debut solo