Tullamore Song

Some people from Scotland were in the Brewery Tap,Tullamore on last Monday night. They work for the new "Tullamore Dew" whiskey company. One of them asked if there was such a thing as a Tullamore song,so Dominic Madden duly obliged.

This same question was asked many years ago by P.J.Grennan.Nobody could think of a local song so Dominic decided to write one.

The song was first aired in the Mallett Tavern and I must say it has stood the test of time very well. The "life lines"of our country run through Tullamore.This song remembers fondly the Tullamore our emigrant sons still recall with great affection.Dominic recorded this song on our C.D. ,"Life Lines" under our group name "Fartulla" and it is available on Google Play.


Tullamore


From the Slieve Blooms to the Shannon lies a timeless rugged land
Six thousand years of growing through nature's guiding hand
Between rolling hills of heather and golden fields of corn
Lies Tullamore,so peaceful,the town where I was born.


Oh and I miss you,I miss you
I need a calm amid the storm
I want to be where I was born
I miss you.


Through poverty,plague and famine this small town did survive
With penal laws and battles came a will to stay alive
And when great fire brought disaster one hundred houses were burned down
Then like the Phoenix from the ashes rose a proud and prosperous town


From the top of Charleville castle where as a boy I etched my name
I could trace the Esker Riada,ice age hills of world-wide fsme
Then the steeple draws me closerI can hear the church bells chime
As I watch the river meanderI'm taken back to another time


On my way from school I hurried past the jail and Acre's Hall
The haunted house in Earl Street where I heard the banshee call
And the trees that gave me shelteroften heard young lovers talk
Making plans about their future as they strolled on Bachelor's Walk


The Grand Canal,a lifeline,barges hauling up and down
And the busy railway station our country's veins run through our town
But as I look out of my window on this busy Boston street
I recall our old thatched cabin where Collier's Stream and Clonminch meet