Keeping traditional folk songs alive and enjoyed is my main interest in my recorded songs.  I also have some of my own compositions and some gospel songs included.

Sue2BlueEyes's Own

This is about the life and treatment of women as witches in the 1500-1700s.  It starts with the perceptions of all the things they could do as evil beings.  Then tells of their true nature as healers and mid-wives, ending with their torture and deaths as witches.

Mysteries of the Witch

Shapeshifter,  Love fixer, 
Spellbinder, Lost finder,
 Ill-bringer into your house;
 Shrink down to size of a mouse. 
Spell caster, Disaster, 
Soul captor, Babe snatcher, 
The future read from the stars, 
Wielder of old and dark powers.

 Anquish and miseries,
 Behold our mysteries!

 We're ruining, Nightmooning, 
Caballing, Appalling,
 Enthralling all with our cants; 
We're witching all with a glance. 
You quiver, You shiver,
 You clamor, And stammer, 
You can't escape from our hold
Until you're shrivelled and old. 

With herb and flow'r tisanes, 
We heal and soothe your pains; 
With godly charms we mend;
 From evil acts defend; 
If these undertakings fail, 
Must we women scream and wail? 

You're hunting; You're dunking; 
You're testing; Arresting; 
Witch-trialing all that you can;
 The fires of panic you fan;
 You're branding, You're hanging,
 You're scorning, Witch-burning;
 We suffer heretic's fate 
Due to fanatical state. 

Anquish and miseries, 
Behold our mysteries!

Mysteries of the Witch

As the world rapidly deteriorates due to war, poverty, climate change, pollution, species endangerment, I like to retreat to my Fairy Sanctum to replenish my spirit of humanity.  This song is meant to contrast the human world as it is and the fairy world of our poetic past.
Fairy Sanctum
Sue Whitehead

In this human world 
Dread hunger reigns here without cease,
 Where-e'er I look, great pov- erty, 
War and conflict ever increase. 
The nations never can agree; 
No peace we see! 

But for me, I prefer... A faerie dream, 
CHORUS:
To hear the tinkling fairy song, 
See the glitter of their wings, 
Hear ev'ry time they trip along 
Their harp strings.

 2.--- Bane of Mother Earth, Lives in the wild are dying out, 
The air and water full of death; 
We change the climate with no thought; 
There's toxic air in ev'ry breath; 
So uncaring! 

But for me, I prefer... A faerie dream, 
CHORUS

In times of long ago,
 The magic of the Earth was real; 
And people loved this living world; 
Scars and wounds man sought to heal; 
A song of mystery was heard. 
When all knew grace! 

But for me, I prefer... A faerie dream, 

And To hear the tinkling fairy song, 
See the glitter of their wings,
 Hear ev'ry time they trip along 
Their harp strings; 
My faerie sanctum.

Fairy Sanctum

When a baby was sick or cranky, it was often thought that the human child had been abducted by fairies and one of their own was put in the cradle.  This song is about a changeling and the remedy his human mother took to get her human baby back.  
The lyrics are taken from a poem, "Romance of the Fairy Cure", written by James Clarence Mangan (1803-1849).

The Changeling Remedy

Nellie Phelan's child is ailing,
 Hour by hour, the babe is failing 
Squealing, kicking, biting, whining, 
To an *atomy is pining. 
Once he was a fine wee fel low, 
Now he's wrinkled, thin and yel low.
 Playful then he was and civil, 
Now he's cross-grained as the devil. 
Oh, her babe, her poor, poor baby. 

To a wise man Nell is walking,
 Long time they're in secret talking,
 First she heard all Nell's description, 
Then she wrote out a prescription. 
"Take this cure, although a strange one;
 It is needed when they change one; 
By it you'll the fairies bother, 
Get your child and choke the other.
 "You must make the fairy speak out,
 Ere your child from them you take out, 
If you follow what's been written, 
You shall find the biter bitten. 
Five hundred eggshells Nelly chooses;
 In a pot, the shells she *bruises;
 In spring water now they're boiling,
 Stirring round the pot she's toiling. 
Oh her babe, her poor poor baby.

Red hot now the poker's ready,
 While Nell stirs the pot so steady;
 From the child, in cradle lying, 
Nell now hears a strange voice crying, 
“Mammy, Mammy, What's that boiling? 
Why with pot stick are you toiling?" 
Nell, to drop with fright, was ready. 
Yet she answered cool and steady.
 Oh, her babe, her poor, poor baby.

 "Eggshells, deary, I am brewing.
 Cock's broth for my babe I'm stewing. 
When I skim off all the dripping, 
Then it will be fit for sipping, 
"Though five-hundred years I'm chewing,
 Eggshells never saw I brewing. 
Though five centuries I'm cheating, 
Ne'er have I seen cock's broth eaten."
Oh her babe, her poor, poor baby.

 Quick the poker Nellie seizes, 
To the cradle now she races.
 Red hot down its throat she crams it; 
With her might and main she rams it. 
Oh her babe, her poor, poor baby!

 Gone like lightning is the fairy;
 In its stead there lies her deary--- 
Her brave boy--- Her darling Terry!
 With his lip and cheek of cherry. 
Oh, her babe, her own sweet baby.

The Changeling Remedy

The Reaper's Ghost was written by Richard Dyer-Bennett in 1935.  It is about the dangers of farm work, and hay making in particular.  The reaper's ghost haunts the hay stacks.

The Reaper's Ghost

Lord Rossmore is dying.  He calls his daughter to him and tells her he thinks he hears the wind or water, but actually what he hears is the banshee calling his name.  By morning he is dead and the banshee is screaming around the castle. 
Screams, moans, and whispered sounds make this track truly eerie.

The Rossmore Banshee

This album features traditional and new Christmas music in the style of folk music.  Several tracks are original songs written by Sue Whitehead.  All tracks are performed by Sue Whitehead.

The Lamb Lullaby

Lo How a Rose E'er Blooming

Little Donkey

Jesus, Jesus Rest Your Head

In The Bleak Midwinter

Dear Little Stranger

Ain't That a-Rockin' All Night Long

A Child's Christmas Prayer

My Lagan Love is a traditional Irish folk song.  It references a leanan sidhe (pronounced "lanan shee") which is a fairy who seeks the love of mortals. If they refuse, she must be their slave; if they consent, they are hers, and can only escape by finding another to take their place. The fairy lives on their life, and they waste away. Death is no escape from her.

My Lagan Love
Lyrics credited to Joseph Campbell
Where Lagan stream sings lullaby, there blooms a lily fair,
The twilight gleam is in her eye, 
The night is on her hair.
And like a love-sick leanan-sidhe
She has my heart in thrall.  
Nor life I owe, nor liberty,
For love is lord of all.

And oft-times when the beetle’s horn
Hath lulled the eve to sleep,
I steal unto her shieling lorn,
And through the dooring peep.
There on the cricket’s singing stone,
She spares the bogwood fire,
And hums in sad, sweet undertone
The song of heart’s desire.

Her welcome, like her love for me,
Is from her heart within.
Her warm kiss is felicity
That knows no taint of sin.
And when I stir my foot to go,
‘Tis leaving love and light.
To feel the wind of longing blow
From out the dark of night.

For she has my heart in thrall,
For love is lord of all.

My Lagan Love

A beautiful young girl loves to play at the ocean's shore, collecting shells and swimming.  One day she disappears.  Perhaps she had disturbed some nymphs who became jealous of her beauty and dragged her to their caves under the waves?  

This is an adaptation of a poem by Charles Henry St. John which was published in Old Colony Songbook of Newfoundland in 1904.  It is in memory of Claribel who was presumed drowned, although her body was never recovered.

Claribel And The Sea Nymphs

A young woman has fallen in love with a man who has gone to sea.  She is longing for him and faults her parents for not supporting her love interest.

The lyrics are my own interpretation of the Irish version.

Jimmy Mo Mhile Stor

A humorous cautionary song about a wicked-tongued wife whom even the devil does not want.

The Devil's Curst Wife

Barbara Allen is a very old and popular folk song about lovers who cannot resolve their problems before they both die. He is considered to be sweet and loving while she is unforgiving and cruel.

Barbara Allen

This is a beautiful Yiddish lullaby popularized in the arrangement by Abraham Goldfaden (1840-1908) for his 1880 Yiddish musical, "Shulamis".

Raisins and Almonds

In dreams, love can come to life for the duration of the dream.  Sensations are often confused with touch being sound, sound being light, etc.

When I Dream
by Sue Whitehead

Soft shadows clear,
I feel a call,
A whispered scent,
I turn.

Eyes appear,
Loving eyes,
Brush across me,
See me.

Can you feel me?
Will you hear?
Do you also
Dream?

A ghostly warmth.
What? Who?
A gentle stroke.
It’s you.

No words are heard,
All, spoken, thoughts
Known in our souls.
Eyes kiss.

Can you feel me?
Will you hear?
Do you also
Dream?

Our hands entwine,
Our lips caress,
We share our hopes.
And wonderingly soar.

When I Dream

The garden boy comes to tend a lonely rose in the garden which then thrives.  We can all be garden boys and assist others to thrive if we try.

The Garden Boy

When I grew up in the 1950s and 1960s, I loved singing many songs.  This song refers to many of them.  See how many of them you can recognize.

Memories Of Childhood

If you been to the South US, you have probably seen trees and fields covered with this odious vine called Kudzu.  It is very fast growing, overcomes anything in its path, and is hard to kill.  
Hope you enjoy this humorous song about kudzu.

Kudzu, The Bane Of the South
By Sue Whitehead

 The kudzu is a-growin’, man, the kudzu is a-growin’.
My pappy’s farm here in Redneck Spring
Was the best dern place you’d ever seen,
Until that greedy weed moved in.
The kudzu is a-growing.

The kudzu is a-growin’, man, the kudzu is a-growin’.
It’s growing over my old fence.
It knocked it down into the ditch
My cows they walked right over it.
The kudzu is a-growing.

The kudzu is a-growin’, man, the kudzu is a-growin’.
It’s crawling over my old car
That sits in the yard without no tires
And the vines keep growing up higher and higher.
The kudzu is a-growing.

Now Kudzu is the bane of the South,
It ain’t no good, well shut my mouth.
Well, looky there what it’s doin’ now.
It’s growin’, growin’, growin’.

The kudzu is a-growin’, man, the kudzu is a-growin’.
It’s covered over my whole house,
With the sagging roof that is falling down.My seven kids, they can’t get out.
The kudzu is a-growing.

The kudzu is a-growin’, man, the kudzu is a-growin’.
It’s growing over the entire town
With the church bell falling down on the ground
And the steeple took its final bow.
Oh,the kudzu is a-growing.

Now Kudzu is the bane of the South,
It ain’t no good, well shut my mouth.
Well, looky there what it’s doin’ now.
It’s growin’, growin’, growin’.

The kudzu is a-growin’, man, the kudzu is a-growin’.
The army came to kill it off
With their ‘copters poisoning all the crops.
And the sirens’ wailing and the dogs all bark.
The kudzu is a-dying.

The kudzu is a-dyin’, man, the kudzu is a-dyin’.
What’s that I see climbing up my fence
That was all knocked down into the ditch,
And my cows had just walked over it?
OH NO, The kudzu is a-growing.

Kudzu, The Bane Of The South

A mermaid falls in love with a young man and lures him to her lair under the sea.  He finds out the mermaid is not what he thought she was and tragedy strikes.

The Mermaid Lolulalulee

A traditional English folk song.  An old man reflects on his days as a young man and the girls he knew.

Hares On the Mountains

In the past, emotions were attributed to certain plants. Thyme was purity or virginity, rue was regret, rose was love, and willow was sadness. You can see how this lends to the meaning of A Sprig of Thyme, sung here by Sue Whitehead

A Sprig of Thyme

An old English folk song about love for a soldier, sung here by Sue Whitehead

Blackbirds and Thrushes

This is an old English folk song, called Love Will Find Out the Way, that I found in a book called Panpipes, which has some beautiful illustrations along with the music and lyrics.

Over the mountains
And over the waves,
Under the fountains
And under the graves,
Under floods that are deepest,
Which Neptune does obey 
Over rocks which are the steepest,
Love will find out the way.

Where there is no place
For the glow-worm to lie,
Where there is no space
For receipt of a fly,
Where the gnat dares not venture,
Lest herself fast she lay,
But if Love comes, he will enter,
And will find out the way.

You may esteem him
A child for his might,
Or you may deem him
A coward from his flight.
But if she, whom Love doth honor,
Be concealed from the day
Set a thousand guards upon her,
Love will find out the way.

Some think to lose him
By having him confined
Some do suppose him,
Poor thing, to be blind;
But if ne'er so close ye wall him,
Do the best that you may,
Blind Love, if so ye call him,
Will find out his way.

You may train the eagle
To stoop to your fist.
You may inveigle 
The Phoenix of the east.
The lioness, you may move her
To give o'er her prey;
But you'll ne'er stop a lover;
He will find out his way.

But you'll ne'er stop a lover;
Love will find out the way.

Love Will Find Out the Way

Robert Burns, (1759-1796) wrote this song as part of his drama "Phillip Augustus".  I found it in an old book named Panpipes and thought it interesting.   FYI, if you didn't know, as I didn't, Jassamine is an alternate form for the flower jasmine.

When the bright god of day
Drove westward his ray,
And evening was charming and clear,
The swallows amain
Nimbly skim o’er the plain;
And our shadows like giants appear.

In a Jessamine bower,
When the bean was in flower,
And zephyrs breath’d odours around,
Beloved Celia sat
With her song and spinet,
And she charm’d all the grove with her sound.

ROSY BOWERS, she sung,
Whilst the harmony rung,
And the birds they all flutt’ring arrive;
The industrious bees,
From the flowers and trees,
Gently hum with their sweets to their hive.

The gay god of Love,
As he flew o’er the grove
By zephyrs conducted along, 
As she touched on the strings,
He beat time with his wings,
Whilst Echo repeated the song.

O ye mortals, beware
How ye venture too near;
Love doubly is armed to wound;
Your fate you can’t shun,
For you’re surely undone,
If you rashly approach near the sound.

Near the sound from the Jessamine Bower

Celia In the Jassamine Bower (When the Bright God of Day)

Whistling Gypsy Rover is a very popular song with a upbeat tune.  A young woman hears a gypsy rover whistling as he passes by.  They fall in love and she leaves her family to go with him.  Her father gallops after her to take her home and gets a surprise when he finds her in a great castle.

The Whistling Gypsy Rover

A young man tries to court a young woman and wants her to let him walk with her to hear the nightingale sing.  At first she is not willing, but he wins out.  This is an old English folk song.

Sweet Nightingale

This is a traditional Irish folk love song.  I love the imagery in it.

Red Is the Rose

The lyrics are taken mostly from traditional Irish blessings with a few additional blessings of my own.  I also wrote the music.

May God Give You

A young child imagines that rainbows make drops of color, like clouds make drops of water.  This song is about watching the child play while the child imagines all the colors that are dropping down.  This is an original composition by Sue Whitehead.

Rainbow Drops
Melody and Lyrics by Sue Whitehead, vocals by Sue Whitehead

Rainbow drops drift down to you,
Yellow, blue, violet, orange, red, and green.
Butterflies wing by on breezes,
Fly through exultant skies,
While your twinkling smile I see,
With wonder in your eyes.

All the colors of the rainbow
Will be showering over you.
You chase them all to kiss them.
Each one your fav’rite toy.
Your delightful laugh I hear,
And smile to share your joy.

All the rainbow drops surround you,
Green of hills, yellow sun, blue skies.
Rainbow drops so real to you.
Fair Gaia’s glory nigh,
In the meadow sings her lullaby;
No sweeter than your sigh.

Rainbow Drops

A young girl is milking her father's ewes in the field inside a pen and singing about the broom, a flowering bush growing there.  A troop of gentlemen pass by and one of them investigates the singing he has heard.  The girl gets pregnant, the man comes back to find her, and marries her.  She still longs for her field of broom and tending her father's herd of sheep. So it has a happy and a sad ending.

Below is the original Scottish version with some translations of the Scottish words.

Broom o' the Cowdenknowes (Ballad Version)
Traditional Scottish Folk Song

							English translation
1.	There was a troop o' merry gentlemen,
Cam' ridin' between twa knowes,			(two knolls)
An' there heard the voice o' a fair bonnie lass,
In the valley, milkin' her yowes.			(ewes)

There's yin o' them has lighted aff his horse,     	(one,gotten off)  
An' tied it tae a tree,
An' he has gane tae yon yowe-bucht,			(gone to, ewe hold or pen)
Tae see what it might be.
   Singin', "O, the broom , the bonnie, bonnie 
	broom,
   The broom o' the Cowdenknowes;
   Fain wad I be in the nairth country, 		(I wish I could be, north)
   Tendin' my faither's yowes."			(father’s)

2.	He's ta'en her by her milk-white hand,
An' by her green gown-sleeve,
An' led her intae a misty bough,
An' speired o' her nae leave. 				(Spoke to her without her permission)

Sayin, "I've been nairth, an' I've south,		(north)
An' I've ridden o'er the downs,
But the bonniest lass that e'er I've seen
Is right here in Cowdenknowes."
   O, the broom...

3.	When fifteen weeks had past an' gane,
Fu' fifteen weeks an' three,				(full, a total of)
This maid grew thick aboot the waist,			(about)
An' she longed for his twinklin' e’e.			(eye)

It fell on a day, on a bonnie simmer's day, (summer's)
As she wauked the hills sae high,			(walked, so)
Anither troop o' fine gentlemen			(another(
Cam' ridin' o'er the lea.				(meadow)
   Singin', O, the broom...

4.	Yin o' them, he stopped an' he said,		(yin)
"Wha got the babe by thee?"				(who)
Weel, first she blushed, but syne she said,		(then)
"I hae a fine man at hame."				(have, home)

"Oh, ye lie, ye lie, my bonnie bonnie may!  	(pretty girl) (“may” is an endearment)
Aloud I hear ye lie!
Dinna ye mind the bonnie simmer nicht			(don’t you remember) summer night
I lay in the yowe-bucht wi' thee?"
   O, the broom...

5.	He's lighted aff his milk-white steed,
An' set this fair maid on,
"Noo ca' your herds, good lady," he said;            (now send your herds to pasture)
"Ye'll ne'er see them again.                   (never)

"For I am the laird o' Knottingham,			(lord)
Wi' fifty ploos an' three,				(plows)
An' let your faither cam' after your sheep,		(father)
For tonight my bride ye'll be."
   Singin', O, the broom...

Broom O' the Cowdenknowes

The Kilkenny cats are a fabled pair of cats from County Kilkenny (or Kilkenny city in particular) in Ireland, who fought each other so ferociously that only their tails remained at the end of the battle. In this song, the absurd implication is that they have eaten each other. 
I love the Irish words, some seem to be either local slang or made-up by the poet-- "gladiath'rin' away" (fighting) and "Och, tunder" are my favorites.
The Kilkenny Cats
Lyrics adapted by Alfred Perceval Graves

1. In the dacent ould days
 Before stockings and stays
 Were invented, or breeches 
topboots and tophats, 
You'd search the whole sphere 
From Cape Horn to Cape Clear – 
And never come near 
to the likes of our cats.
 Och, tunder! Och, tunder!
You'd wink wid the wonder
To see them keep under  
the mice and the rats. 
And go wild for half shares 
In the phisants and hares 
They pull'd up the backstairs 
to provision our Pats. 
Och! the cats of Kilkenny,
 Kilkenny's wild cats! 
2. But the shame and the sin 
Of the Game Laws came in 
With the gun and the gin 
of the landlord Canats,
 And whole box and dice 
Of the rats and the mice –
 Made off in a trice 
from our famishing cats. 
What did the bastes do? –
 What would I or you?
 Is it lie down and mew 
till we starved on our mats? 
Not at all, faix! but fall 
Small and great, great and small, 
With one grand caterwaul 
on ache other's cravats.
 Och! the cats of Kilkenny,
 Kilkenny's wild cats!
3. And that mortial night long
We should hark, right or wrong,
To the faste and the song 
Of them cannibal cats.
Gladiath’rin’ away 
Till the dawn of the day
In fifty three sharps, semi-quavers, and flats.
And when we went round
With the milkcarts we found
Scattered over the ground
Like a sprinkle of sprats,
(All the rest, bit and sup, 
Of themselves they’d ate up.)
Only just the tip-ends 
Of the tails of the cats.
Of the Cats of Kilkenny,
Kilkenny’s quare Cats!

The Kilkenny Cats

This song was written by James Bland.  I like the old-time piano sound in this song especially. You will recognize it from old westerns as music often played in saloons.  I really didn't know it was a gospel song until I looked up the lyrics!

Oh Dem Golden Slippers

This song was written by Alfred Perceval Graves (1846-1931).  I found it in an old book of Irish folk songs and transcribed it over to a midi file.  Then recorded it with music and lyrics together.

Hush Song by Alfred Perceval Graves
Though the way be long and weary
Over mountain, under wood,
Mother will never mind it, deary,
With you hammocked in her hood.

Hush!  My honey. See, my sonny,
How from off the autumn trees
Sparkling show’rs of fairy money
Fall and flutter in the breeze.

Hush! The queen bee to her levee, 
Buzz –a –buzz with humming sport,
From the blossoms in a bevy
Calls her golden glancing court.

Hark! The cushats without number
In the treetops o’er our track,
Coo-a-coo, to smiling slumber
Coax the boy-o on my back.

Sho-heen sho-ho! Lul-la-lo-lo!
Safe from sight and sound of harm,
Dream ‘til Daddy lifts his lady
Laughing up, upon his arm.

Dream ….dream!

Hush Song

A girl's step-mother turns her into a sea serpent, or dragon, and curses her saying that it will require 3 kisses from the Champion Owen to turn her back into a woman.  When Kemp Owyne (Owen the Champion) hears of her plight, he comes to rescue (borrow) her.  She gives him 3 magical items to keep him safe but warns him that if he touches her tail or fin, he will die.  He chances it and kisses her 3 times using the magical items.  She turns back into a beautiful woman.  
This is where the original damaged copy of the lyrics ends.  To finish out the tune and the story I then added that she says he is the bravest knight of all.  He then, as heroes are wont to do, returns back across the sea.

Kemp Owyne (Owen the Champion)

Child ballad #34

1.Her mother died when she was young,
Which gave her cause to make great
moan;
Her father married the warst woman
That ever lived in Christendom.
She served her with both foot and hand,
In every thing that she could dee.

2.Till once, in an unlucky time,
She threw her in ower Craigy's sea.
Says, ' Lie you there, dove Isabel,
And all my sorrows lie with thee;
Till Kemp Owyne come ower the sea,
And borrow you with kisses three.'        borrow=rescue

3.'Let all the warld do what they will,
Oh borrowed shall you never be!'
Her breath grew strang, her hair grew
lang,
And twisted thrice about the tree,
And all the people, far and near,
Thought that a savage beast was she.

4.This news did come to Kemp Owyne,
Where he lived, far beyond the sea;
He hasted him to Craigy's sea,
And on the savage beast look'd he.
Her breath was strang, her hair was     strang= strong
lang,                                                           lang= long
And twisted was about the tree.

5. And with a swing she came about:
'Come to Craigy's sea, and kiss with
me.
 Here is a royal belt,' she cried,
' That I have found in the green
sea ;
And while your body it is on,
Drawn shall your blood never be';

6.'But if you touch me, tail or fin,
I vow my belt your death shall be.'
He stepped in, gave her a kiss,
The royal belt he brought him wi;
Her breath was strang, her hair was
lang,
And twisted twice about the tree,

7.And with a swing she came about:
' To Craigy's sea come and kiss with
me.
 ' Here is a royal ring,' she said,
' That I have found in the green sea;
And while your finger it is on,
Drawn shall your blood never be;'

8.'But if you touch me, tail or fin,
I swear my ring your death shall be.'
He stepped in, gave her a kiss,
The royal ring he brought him wi;
Her breath was strang, her hair was
lang,
And twisted ance about the tree,

9.And with a swing she came about:
' To Craigy's sea come and kiss with
me.
' Here is a royal brand,' she said,
'That I have found in the green sea;
And while your body it is on,
Drawn shall your blood never be';

10.'But if you touch me, tail or fin,
I swear my brand your death shall
be.'
He stepped in, gave her a kiss,
The royal brand he brought him wi;
Her breath was sweet, her hair grew
short,
And twisted nane about the tree,

11. And smilingly she came about,
As fair as woman fair could be.
Then she grew near to Kemp Owyne
And laid her head low on his knee.
“You are the bravest knight of all!”
Then back went he across the sea.

Kemp Owyne

This my journey into getting back into performing.  I am focusing on folk songs and especially old traditional ones.  
My tracks are available for purchase at https://oca2blue.bandcamp.com.  Come check out my album "For the Love Of Folk Music" there.

Since these tracks are works in progress in many cases, I often remove older versions and replace with newer versions.  If you heart a track, you may later find it is not showing your heart any longer when I have replaced it.   I try to keep all the songs on my playlist, Sue2BlueEyes Own, so you can always hear all the current versions on it.

I have 28 of these tracks available on ITunes, Spotify, Amazon, Google Play, Apple Music, and other venues.

Sue2BlueEyes

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