House of Music

(In memorium, John Delaney)

You would have loved this reddened mackerel sky-
I see you with the camera to your eye.
And in the quiet nights your video you’d show;
While the magic lantern’s light would come and go.

In that magic room where music had its place,
Its lineage and its beauty you could trace;
While you vamped behind the strings, accordion,
The music that we’ll play now you are gone.

Chorus
‘Táimse Im’ Chodladh’, will play still,
Or ‘Slieve na mBan’, that most sacred hill
That sent the Lingaun running by your door 
Though you’ll not play their music any more.

And there were nights that filled each heart with joy;
Among the players there, you sat, quite shy;
You’d turn and start some corny joke to tell - 
We lost that when the utter silence fell.

Gentle be the soul, O gentle still
Where you are gone, your journey to fulfil,
And left us here with just the memory 
Of how your house of music used to be.

Chorus
‘Táimse Im’ Chodladh’, will play still,
Or ‘Slieve na mBan’, that most sacred hill
That sent the Lingaun running by your door 
Though you’ll not play their music any more.

Though you’ll not play their music any more.

- © Frank Callery.

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