Good Old Days

Whatever happened to the good old days
they disappeared in a purple haze
Do you remember the yoyo craze
or playing games like Simon Says

Do you remember when were young
when the twist was number one
At the beach in the summer sun
hula hoops were lots of fun

Nowadays, they’re running wild
you can’t keep up with the latest styles
Things will never be the same
you’ll find love is a computer game.

Do you remember Jimmy Dean
Big Bad John was tall and mean
Man, the girls did really scream
when the Beatles came upon the scene

Nowadays, they’re running wild
you can’t keep up with the latest styles
Things will never be the same
you’ll find love is a computer game.

Whatever happened to Blueberry Hill
watching the stars was such a thrill
Seeing a movie from the very last row
where did all the good times go?

Nowadays, they’re running wild
you can’t keep up with the latest styles
Things will never be the same
you’ll find love is a computer game.

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The Dream

The clown was filled with life
as he traveled from town to town
Spreading his joy and happiness
wherever he saw a frown
Journeying one day he happened upon a man
Who had the saddest face of anyone in the land
Why, said he, should it be
that you sit here and cry
I’ve lost all my money and my lands
said the man with a sigh
But money can’t buy happiness
the clown honestly replied
The only joy that you’ll find
is locked deep inside.
So get on your feet and walk with me for a mile
and I’ll show you things to make you smile
So on they walked until they came
to a slow moving stream
And looking down into its bed
the man saw it was a dream
For only one reflection was cast in the stream
All that was said he felt might be true
That happiness is really up to me and you
That living life for gold and silver was no fun
For money cannot buy the sunset when the day is done.

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Curse Of The Gun

How many times do we hear of the past
of cowboys and outlaws that rode hard and fast
Of a time when a man had to live by the gun
and sleep on the hard ground when his day was done
The outlaw lived by the speed of his draw
while sheriff’s posses tried to even the score
Another bank robbed and another man dead
another dollar added to the price on his head
He spent his days always on the run
never stopping to rest or cool off his gun
From bank job to train, he hit hard and fast
but the luck of his draw could not last
One day, a young man, so daring and bold
will draw on the outlaw and make his gun cold
They will call him the hero with a cool steady hand
they’ll honor him with cheers and a big brass band
But the curse of the gun will soon take its toll
and a taste for the fast life will make his heart cold
He will rob and kill and run for his life
and never know what it is like to take on a wife
But another young man with a Colt for a gun
will put him to rest under the hot Texas sun
His time at end, but his gun will remain
passed from outlaw to outlaw til there is none left to stain.

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The Colt Forty-Five

A legend was born one hot Texas night
when a young man was called to the street for a fight
It started over some words that were said
and ended in the street with a man cold and dead
The rest of his life he’ll spend on the run
to spare himself from another man’s gun
The Colt Forty-Five that smoked in his hand
would soon become famous throughout the land
His name would be echoed from town to town
and his reputation would follow where e’er he’s bound
Every Sheriff, every Marshall from Dodge to Cheyenne
will try to take the life of this man
His life will be ended before the first winter snow
outgunned by a man from the town of Laredo
The gunfighter is dead, but the legend lives on
while his Colt Forty-Five rusts in the ground
While in another town not far away
another young man will a man slay
With a Colt Forty-Five in his hand he will run
hiding and fighting until his life is done.

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Christmas Beauty

The sky is filled with snow laden clouds
As carolers sing their songs for the crowds
The snow that was promised has not yet come
and winter scenes are left undone
When all the children gather to sing
you can see the love that Christmas brings
I have yet to see the winter’s grace
when the ground is set in delicate lace
A lace so pretty it makes lovers smile
and they stop to play in the snow for a while
The beauty the snow brings to the land
is the most wonderful part of Nature’s plan
To bring together
young and old
the meek, the daring
the wise and the bold
To gather together for the Christmas meal
to share the joy the angels feel
For on this day so long ago
a babe was born under a stars soft glow
Jesus, the Saviour, was born on this day
heaven sent to show the way.

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Christmas Joy

A time for joy is this season
when people laugh for no known reason
The children playing in the park
will start to carol after dark
When people gather young and old
to hear an ancient story told
About a babe born in a manger
who to this world would be no stranger
About a star that shone so bright
to lead the wise men through the night
The glorious story of the birth of our Lord
of which no man could ever be bored
Friends and enemies gather as one
to make peace with each other
and share in the fun
They join together to erect a tree
and trim it with lights so all may see
Everyone is merry and so filled with mirth
Filled with the joy of the Saviour’s birth.

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Thoughts On Being Irish

It is often said of the Irish, that they life life to the fullest. They enjoy ever moment with a passion, savoring life itself, with an ecstasy that boggles the mind. Many a comment has been made on the Irishman’s drinking habits, and of the bawdiness that permeates their very existence. What if this is true? I don’t know for sure. I do know that I am one who enjoys life. Every breath that I take is one of life. Who can dare argue the extent of suffering the Irish have endured. Yet, they still welcome all and her challenges.

What then, is it like to be born of such a heritage? To have to live up to the image of the Irish that society has painted. We learn to live our lives for each moment. To take life to our bosom and love it as if it were our only child. To look at death not as an enemy but, as the continuing on of the spirit. Death is the beginning of life. The day when the soul goes off to Glocca Mora, where man and leprechauns play together among magical mushrooms and spreading green of heather.

Life is sweet, something to be savored for every moment. To be shared with all who will come. This is the philosophy I’ve been taught. Maybe someday all will share this idea of peace and love will flow as the River Shannon. Fear not to suffer life, for life will reward you for your struggles. Keep an open heart and mind to all that you encounter, for they may become a cherished friend. Fear not the throngs of death, for they are the final gateway to eternal happiness.

Onward to Glocca Mora!!

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Deja Vu

The snow is swirling in the air
I look around and see you there
Am I dreaming or is it true
That I am walking here with you
Hand in hand we are walking along
While the snowbird sings its song
Can this be real
It seems like a dream
Where everything isn’t as it seems
It must be real
For I am here with you
This must be what they call Deja Vu
For I had dreamed this night before
But now it means so much more
For you are here
Out in the snow
The earth takes on a peaceful glow
For a love like this
Cannot be found
In a city, village, or a town
It is a love I share with you
But this is just a dream
It’s Deja Vu

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Missing You

I gaze out my window at the silvery moon
hoping and dreaming
that we’ll be together soon
My heart is impatient
it wishes you here
but the days pass so slowly
by month, then year
I know it has been but one day
but each minute you are gone
is filled with dismay
I love you, I want you
’til life’s bitter end
but my lips stop the words
my lonely heart sends
If only I could tell you
just how I feel
then maybe together our dreams can be real
No longer will I walk in a hzae
for together
forever
we will spend our days.

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Letter of Love

Dawn breaks
an amber glow on the horizon
The air is cool and crisp
The frost on the trees
reflect the light in prismatic colors
A lone bird pecks at the ground
for its daily sustenance
A panorama of beauty unfolds about me
but it is lacking the true essence of beauty
You, my dear, are needed to complete this portrait
For without you
The bird is living but for the day
The colors begin to fade
The air turns cold
I may eat and drink to sustain my life
but I need you to sustain my spirit
I need you to give my life meaning
To keep me going when I get down
Without you, I, like the bird
live day to day
And the days draw by slowly
as if fate were playing a cruel joke
Just one glimpse of you
and I am renewed
ready for another day
Just one kiss
and I am ready for
whatever the world can throw at me
I want to hold you
and love you forever
Please say you will

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