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Rotten Potato Blight
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A sad lament by a survivor as he leaves Cork harbour for a new life in the Americas in 1849
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Acoustic folk rock, singer-songwriter
I've been singing since I was able to gurgle but only playing the guitar since I was 11, when my "father homeward came one day and gave to me a toy" (Thanks, Tom). That was about 50 years ago give or take a few months and I've been singing, playing and writing songs on and off, during all that time.
Song Info
Genre
Acoustic • Acoustic Folk
Charts
Peak #145
Peak in subgenre #31
Author
Berk/Gladdis
Rights
Maple Leaf Media Ltd
Uploaded
August 27, 2016
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.9 MB • 128 kbps • 5:20
Story behind the song
Written with a good friend. We were both inspired to write a song after studying the shocking history of the Irish Potato Famine which devastated the population of Ireland in the 1840s. This was one of my earliest collaborations with a lyricist. In the main I've written my own lyrics and music. It took 20 years to record this song and listening to it now I realise that although I am a through-and-through acoustic musician, I can't escape the influence of Led Zeppelin on my style and approach to recorded arrangements! Instruments included a Gibson Chet Atkins SST and Gibson J200. Thankfully the sound engineer persauded me to abandon the SST and go for a pure acoustic sound on the rest of the tracks
Lyrics
ROTTEN POTATO BLIGHT (Berk/Gladdis) Copyright Maple Leaf Media Ltd 1994 There's a ship in the roads And it's occupants cry for salvtion There's a long way to go And none is sure of his destination The winter of '45 was bad The summer bought no relief The food was stolen from the ground And the rain was named as the thief I am not a frightened man But I could not stand the sight Of the murder of my brothers By the rotten potato blight America's shores are far away The journey will be long But the bitter memories I can recall Will help to keep me strong It's hardto fight down something When you can't see your enemy The battle was lost before we knew it It was nature's victory For all the gold I might possess Could not destroy the sight Of the murder of my brothers By the rotten potato blight Let the seagull in the rigging Sing of his freedom I'm leaving home and I'm bound For New England Come the morning he will find That his freedom is travelling forever At least he's stayed with his kind So that all of them travel together No more the green fields for a time Only the cold grey see And the seagulls call in the rigging Brings the message that there's Nothing left for me It's hard to fight down something When you can't see your enemy The battle was lost before we knew it It was nature's victory For all the gold I might possess Could not destroy the sight Of the murder of my brothers By the rotten potato blight
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