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Starn-Blessed


[Words composed by DDJ on 18th July, 2005, to the music written by Ernest Ball for 'A Little Bit of Heaven']

Short Introduction

Hiv ye ivver hard the linglairy hoo Amy she wis caa'd?
Saicret I'll kythe, gin kept weil anse oor Jimmy wid be mad.
Nae Mary or Sophia or Elspeth wis his pyke.
He telt me thit tae chyse ain o' thon micht gar an affa fyke.

Fan a chirmin starn o' meesic ha' ain day his een hid seen,
She'd fest tirned his dylt condeeshun, an', garr'd him tae chinge his teen.
He thocht this lassie ayewyes shair she luik'd sae douce an braw,
Maist clair lik smitten telt his Sadie, 'I ken fit bairn we'll caa.'
Sae, the priest bless'd her arreeval, an', speer'd fit she wid be caa'd.
"Tis oor ainly quine, they baith spak up, there bonnie i' fite plaid.
Fit jist wis the richt-lik moniker snared us atwixt-atween.
Bit fan dist it hid a' sattl'd, twis syne 'greed as Amy Jean."

Amy Jean's noo lucky minnie an' his loats o' chiels her ain.
There's nae ain i' a' Aiburdeen wins her graun wyes o' daen.
Nae wonner thit kin loo her, tak her wysedom tae ilk hert,
As an Amy Jean wi' starndom blessed richt frae the verra stert.

Fan a chirmin starn o' meesic ha' ain day oor Jim hid seen,
She'd fest tirned his dylt condeeshun, an', garr'd him tae chinge his teen.
He thocht this lassie ayewyes shair she luik'd sae douce an braw,
Maist clair lik smitten telt his Sadie, 'I ken fit bairn we'll caa.'
Sae, the priest bless'd her arreeval, an', speer'd fit she wid be caa'd.
"Tis oor ainly quine, they baith spak up, there bonnie i' fite plaid.
Fit jist wis the richt-lik moniker snared us atwixt-atween.
Bit fan dist it hid a' sattl'd, twis syne 'greed as Amy Jean."


A Little Bit of Heaven
(Shure They Call It Ireland)
Words by J. Keirn Brennan, Music by Ernest Ball


Verse 1: Have you ever heard the story of how Ireland got its name?
I'll tell you so you'll understand from whence old Ireland came.
No wonder that we're proud of that dear land across the sea,
For here's the way me dear old mother told the tale to me.

Chorus: Shure, a little bit of heaven fell from out the sky one day,
And nestled on the ocean in a spot so far away;
And when the angels found it, Shure it looked so sweet and fair,
They said suppose we leave it, for it looks so peaceful there!
So they sprinkled it with stardust just to make the shamrocks grow;
'Tis the only place you'll find them no matter where you go;
Then they dotted it with silver, to its lakes so grand,
And when they had it finished, shure they called it Ireland.

Verse 2: 'Tis a dear old land of fairies and of wond'rous wishing wells;
And nowhere else on God's green earth have they such lakes and dells.
No wonder that the angels loved its shamrock bordered shore,
'Tis a little bit of heaven and I love it more and more.

Chorus: Shure, a little bit of heaven fell from out the sky one day,
And nestled on the ocean in a spot so far away;
And when the angels found it, Shure it looked so sweet and fair,
They said suppose we leave it, for it looks so peaceful there!
So they sprinkled it with stardust just to make the shamrocks grow;
'Tis the only place you'll find them no matter where you go;
Then they dotted it with silver, to its lakes so grand,
And when they had it finished, shure they called it Ireland.


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