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The Child Time Forgot

by Paul McCarthy

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1.
This is not the first time you've been 'round and it won't be the last. You're crying over old times 'cause you're bound to live in the past. But that's alright, these are feelings I now too must face as your heat fades from my bed. It's time I need now, a little time so I now too can feel no delusions, no regrets. This is not the first time you've been 'round and it won't be the last. You're crying over old times 'cause you're bound to live in the past. It's a second sight squeezed from the arms of your last embrace it leads me now where once you led. Can you feel it? It's taking everything we once held dear, there's just confusion in my head. This is not the first time you've been 'round and it won't be the last. You're crying over old times 'cause you're bound to live in the past.
2.
I've surfed these wretched waves of doubt, but you held on tight to your faith in us. Now I find I've never been without. It's a dawning as sweet as a morning chorus. Gone are those endless, sleepless nights, snuggle up tight. The darkness still invades my light, but that's alright. I'm here with you blazing trails to the moon. I've walked the tight-rope of my mind. I've swam in guilt and drowned in shame. But you've shown me healing takes some time. You opened my heart and released the pain. Gone are those endless, sleepless nights, snuggle up tight. The darkness still invades my light, but that's alright. I'm here with you blazing trails to the moon.
3.
Day after day it comes our way, news of fear and misery, countless guns scarring us and killing our sons. And who'll count the cost of another life lost? Who'll foot the bill when there's nothing left to kill? Maybe we're all to blame in this cruel, cruel game. It's a cryin' shame. And when wars are done, lost or won, do we set to rights what's been undone? No. We destroy and we don't need guns. We claw at the soil, getting drunk on it's spoils. We're tearing down trees in hypnotic glee. Rainforests of the world do I hear you scream? It's a cryin' shame. So let's make a stand, it's in our hands. Cast no blame and there will be no shame. The powers that be will not speak for me. 'Cause while ice-caps melt and the deserts swell, like the countless bellies of Mother Africa's children, our leaders are policy-skiing down butter mountains. It's a cryin' shame.
4.
She steps out of the morning like a diamond on a ring, she flows upon the mist like a mythical queen. And gently to the water she slowly glances in hoping to find some lines on the face within. For she is the child time forgot while taking all she knew, and now she knows that she must pay her dues. She's been in love a thousand times, a thousand pains too many, and now she knows that she'll never love again. Looking in the water she sees tears in her eyes, tears within waters within eyes. She knows what's to be done though the wind it answers, "No!" take her life and then take her time. For she is the child time forgot while taking all she knew, and now she knows that she must pay her dues. She's been this way a thousand times, a thousand rainy days, and now she knows that she'll not return again. She's been in love a thousand times, a thousand pains too many, and now she knows that she'll never love again.
5.
You'll never know finer wrinkles as intimately as hers, those rosey cheeks may have lost their glow but her eyes they twinkle on. And though she stoops and how she creaks and her hair is like the furze, no truer word you'll ever hear than when she shouts at you, "You're Wrong!" Welly to the pedal, Paddy, Knife your Raleigh through the wind, if you let your beauty fly from you you'll miss her toothless grin. Welly to the pedal, Paddy, Knife your Raleigh through the wind, and catch your darling dear and tell her you love her still. And don't you miss her jerks and querks and all her little whims and the exotic sight as she takes down the scythe to shave her hairy pins. And don't you wish you could feel again her moulding, folding skin, and grab her by the ample arse though it's dragging on the floor. Welly to the pedal, Paddy, Knife your Raleigh through the wind, if you let your beauty fly from you you'll miss her toothless grin. Welly to the pedal, Paddy, Knife your Raleigh through the wind, and catch your darling dear and tell her you love her still. And though she's old and grey you'll ne'er find the like of her again, she's never erred, never strayed unlike your sheep upon the hill. So keep your hobbies out in the shed, Paddy, 'cause the last straw for poor Maggie was... when you blew the shite out of her kitchen with your bloody poitin still. Welly to the pedal, Paddy, Knife your Raleigh through the wind, if you let your beauty fly from you you'll miss her toothless grin. Welly to the pedal, Paddy, Knife your Raleigh through the wind, and catch your darling wife and tell her you love her still. And for God's sake, Paddy, tell her... ..."I'll mend your kitchen, dear!"
6.
Rattle By 04:16
The pale, flat sun carves an existence on the end of the year sky as people gather warmth in the shadow of the forth coming snow. Death's at the door, can you hear, it's on the cruel north wind? It's singing it's anthem, singing that this time life is not going to win. But fly on, don't let that hope die down like sickly embers begging for dry twigs and coal. Fly, fly high, set your sights on the sky, fly... don't let that hope rattle by. And what is it worth but maybe another long year, a bottle of love and a barrel of fear. And who do you look to when you feel you need someone to blame? From whose eyes will the tears fall when it all turns out the same? But fly on, don't let that hope die down like sickly embers begging for dry twigs and coal. Fly, fly high, set your sights on the sky, fly... don't let that hope rattle by.
7.
Mighty Steed 05:34
Where you roam now are you free, like the wind do you run fast? Like the sea pounding beach are you tearing land from our grasp? Mighty steed raise your head to the west from whence you came. Seagul screaming, a look of fire in your eyes. And so I dream and I am thee, I feel your blood burning in my veins, I hear your heart pound my chest, I feel your power, I have your power. Mighty steed raise your head to the west from whence you came. Seagul screaming, a look of fire in your eyes.
8.
Well it's nights like these when I'm all to myself that I allow the hours to carry me to the early morn', I can feel the beat of my heart dance to your distant tide, and I now know who I am and from where I was bourne. Eritrea has embraced me like a long lost prodigal son, Djibouti has shown me that there is life upon the moon, hyena has laughed, gazelle has leapt, baboon's flashed me his big, red arse, Mother Africa has nurtured me like a child from her own womb. Eire, my dear, like a child weaned from the nipple I tore myself from your soft Connemara folds, and not 'till I returned and left you once again did I realise the lack of nourishment from suckling on other shores. So as I rest in the Cradle of Humanity on Africa's great horn, her sea of red licking my face, her exotic breath feathering my skin, I'll not be enchanted again 'till your wild Atlantic spray nestles me, Mother Ireland in the heather of your twelve pins. As she cradles me to her dark bosom, her sweet breath against my cheek, I've thoughts only of you, Mother Ireland, for I now Know what it is that I seek. So let me sit by your fireside and I'll sing to you this song, and, mother dear, tell to me your tales of yore, of Cuchulainn and Fionn, of Oisin and of Niamh, with the scent of burning turf colouring your every word. And I'll tell to you stories of ancient chieftains and kings, the Land of Punt and Lucy in the ground with Darwin, for your sister dear Africa has bourne legends older than old, but not one has hurled a sliotar and caught it on the fall. And as you cradle me to your fair bosom, your salt breath against my cheek, don't ever let me go, Mother Ireland, hold me dear, Mother Ireland, here's to you, Mother Ireland, for I've found now what it was that I seeked. Gra mo chroi, Mother Ireland, slan agus beannacht, Mother Africa.
9.
You, you oughta know by now I don't fool around, not about thee, and you, you oughta know by now that I mean what I say when I say what you mean to me. You've been burnt, now put it aside, you wear it well but you don't fool me. Suspicious eyes so hard to hide, but trust in me and you will see. That you, you oughta know by now I don't fool around, not about thee, and you, you oughta know by now that I mean what I say when I say what you mean to me. Turn around now come look in my eyes, these fears you harbour will soon sail away, if you trust in me go the extra mile, just trust in me and you will see. That you, you oughta know by now I don't fool around, not about thee, and you, you oughta know by now that I mean what I say when I say what you mean to me.
10.
Do You Do? 02:38
Do you like the way you walk, do you like the way you talk, do you? And what about your hair, do you like it when they stare at you? Do you like the way you dress, do you like your clothes pressed to you? Do you, do you really care, do you do? Do you, do you do, you do, you do. Footprints in the sand are they yours or are they mine? No! They're our childs. Do you see how he has grown, remember when within your womb, do you? And what if he should change, would you like him to make strange to you? Do you, do you really care, do you do? Do you, do you do, you do, you do.

about

Singer /songwriter Paul McCarthy grew-up in Connemara on the island of Ireland’s most westerly shore. Born in London’s industrial east-end in the mid 1960’s Paul moved back to Ireland on his family’s return at the beginning of the 70’s.

“I remember it so vividly. It was the most seismic event of my life… to up sticks and move away from all that my short life had known to that point, the claustrophobic red brick and concrete jungle of East Ham, and settle (actually “unsettle” would be a more accurate description of the first couple of years) in the all imposing, awe inspiring, untamed wilderness of Connemara, it’s shoreline sculpted by the ravenous Atlantic. Jaw dropping!”

Paul’s music is loaded with such contrasts. Lilting melody, shifting rhythm, insightful lyric all combined to create dynamic compositions.

“I started to teach myself to play guitar when I was nine and shortly after penned my first song, an embarrassing ditty called “I’m Leaving You Tonight”. The title tells the story but I was way too young and definitely way too inexperienced to be writing songs about the spite that can occur when a relationship breaks down. For my sins my mother still can sing the chorus at me! I learnt a lesson there. Write about what you know, see and feel.”

And Paul does just that with a wide variety of themes. There’s something here for everyone… birth, life, death and everything in between. War, famine, revolution, protest, fiction, folklore, sadness, glee, humour, and of course…love. Love won, lost, unrequited.

credits

released May 21, 2009

Recorded at the Eagles Nest Studios, Connemara, Ireland.
Engineered, produced & mastered by Richard Dunkley.

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