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Cemetery Sunday
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Cemetery Sunday is held in some towns in Ireland. Many expats return for Mass and a rosary at the cemetery. I combined this vivid image from my youth with a more recent memory of unwillingly leaving Dublin and returning to the States.
pop rock acoustic music folk singersongwriter irish
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Sean Kane writes acoustic folk rock songs, inspired by the Irish and American traditional sound, about people on the borders of nationality, identity, and cultu
Sean Kane writes acoustic folk rock songs, inspired by the Irish and American traditional sound, about people on the borders of nationality, identity, and culture. People caught between two places, physically and emotionally: immigrants, expatriates, and outsiders of every profession and persuasion.
Song Info
Genre
Acoustic • Acoustic Rock
Charts
Peak #8
Peak in subgenre #1
Author
Sean Kane
Rights
2004
Uploaded
February 11, 2006
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.7 MB • 128 kbps • 4:02
Story behind the song
Cemetery Sunday is an event held in many towns in Ireland. Many expats manage to return this Sunday in the summer for Mass and a walk up to the cemetery, where the Rosary is said. I combined this vivid image from my youth with a more recent memory of unwillingly leaving Dublin and returning to the States. Before leaving, I walked Sandymount strand, where at low tide the water recedes far out from shore.
Lyrics
Cemetery Sunday, Cemetery Sunday Blue skies Walking from the church to graveyard I was happy, proud to be by your side I was melancholy, silly, called you jolly Molly You smiled You said "only 24 and gawking at your family's plot of land, like a dead man talking, standing like a hero of the land, da da da" It's true I am a sentimental fool but baby not for Erin I knew you thought but wouldn't say That it was just a mood that I was havin' But I'm no schoolboy raised on Blarney Or touristy whiles I've been bit by subtle humor, I see through seasonal smiles But when I stood upon that relic hill I realized I wouldn't want to go back When I stood upon that relic hill I realized I'd have to go back I went out walking on that last day in Dublin To the water No water did I find But February sunshine on my tears I'd savored evey moment, been aware, and had an eye To my sweet soul's content, no ingrate I But it does not matter when goodbye is still goodbye Goodbye I walked out along that strand, maybe a mile or more Got swallowed up by all that flat land Turn around, small me, and face the shore In a dream or vision that I had I walked out to the hill of Howth Every grain of sand beneath my feet Like all my broken hopes, my broken hopes Let the tide rush in Let it drowned me Let it turn me into Just another lonely ghost Let the Lord of Hosts drown me Let him sink me if He can I'd bellysurf all the way to Blackrock I cannot drown in Dublin I can do no wrong in Ireland I cannot drown in Dublin In Dublin I float
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