Pól Mac Adaim

 
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Forsaken Land (2007)

Rachel (Rachel Corrie)

Forsaken Land

If we don't help them now (2002)

If we don't help them now

Bigots scaring children

I don't know

Internationale (2004)

Lord Baker

Joe Hill.

Sacco and Vanzetti.


Rachel.

Come listen you fine people to a story cold
About young Rachel Corrie, 23 years old
From Olympia in Washington Rachel Corrie came
A bright young girl about to learn a world of hurt and pain

Rachel knew atrocities were committed in her name
She knew the U.S. government had a share in all the blame
International solidarity called her from afar
TO a land of death and misery, to a place they call Rafah

Chorus;
Pappa don't you worry, mamma I'm ok
I'm over here in Palestine and I'll be back some day
The Palestinian people are so thoughtful and so kind
I'll feel so guilty when I go and leave them all behind

For seven weeks she risked her life defending people's homes
Trying to break down barriers in Israel's no go zones
Tom Hurndall we'll remember you for trying to do the same
Your pictures of the conflict tell the world of Sharon's shame

One morning Israel'a army came to hgh Salam
To bulldoze Palestinian homes to make way for ther plans
Rachel Corrie pleaded, she tried to talk them round
But the driver in a bulldozer mowed young Rachel down

I didn't know you Rachel, but I know what you stand for
You are an inspiration to end all bloody war
I hope the world will realize the reasons why you died
Equality, fraternity, for liberty and pride.

©Pól Mac Adaim. Reality records 2003. IMRO Reg

Note; On the day Rachel was murdered, I recieved an email with a message and images attached. The message read 'Pol, Can you do anything to help?'. The images were of Rachel's last moments, It was horrifying to see how she was crushed to death. I had been working with a number of Palestinian solidarity groups at the time, but I honestly didn't know what I could do, apart from notifying the various groups and getting the story out. When I finally overcame the shock of recieving this news, I thought about putting Rachel's story to a song, so I contacted her mother, Cindy, who very kindly gave me access to the emails Rachel Had sent during her stay in Palestine. The last email Rachel sent inspired the song. Some of the words in the song are taken from that email. Rachel's legacy continues to inspire activists all over the world to this day. No member of the IDF has ever been held to account for her murder.

Forsaken Land.

I was born in the land of the emerald isle,
the place hasn't changed now for quite a long while,
The people's concerns are why I write this song,
if you lend me an ear I won't keep you long,

In the year nineteen hundred and ninety eight,
an agreement was signed here that coupled our fate,
after 800 years filled with turmoil and strife,
we're suddenly offered a new lease of life,

Are they trying to decieve us with methods they think we'll be too blind to see?
Will they forget that they're people just like you and me in a forsaken land?
Will they try to appease us with the dangling of carrots and scraps?
Are we expected to skrimp while the bosses get fat in this forsaken land?

Well, it's hard to believe after all we've been through,
this lease of life offered could really be true,
There's a question that dwells among this working class,
Is a Socialist Republic a thing of the past?

Don't let them decieve us with methods they think we'll be too blind to see,
remind them they're people just like you and me in a forsaken land,
For they'll never appease us with the dangling of carrots and scraps,
occupation has taught us enough about that in this forsaken land.'

©Pól Mac Adaim. Reality records 2005. IMRO Reg

If we don't help them now.

As the sun goes down over Istanbul town a father and mother weep
In an ‘F’-block jail behind the steel rail for the last time their daughter sleeps
Starving for human rights she won’t give up the fight let her know neither will we
For as long as the fascists are in control there they’ll come closer to you and to me

Through countless years of torture and fear this corrupt state of evil survives
Neath(Beneath) the blazing sun this rebellion will uncover this governments lies
Mothers and daughters, sisters and brothers starve inside and outside the jails
If we don’t help them now we won’t need to ask how this human rights protest will fail

Back in ’81 our very own sons did starve against such evil ways
Though it’s been twenty years we still shed our tears for the suffering they went through each day.
Starving for human rights she won’t give up the fight let her know neither will we
For as long as the fascists are in control there they’ll come closer to you and to me

Travel agents disguise this government’s lies selling holiday breaks in this land
If you can hear the plea of the boycott they need then you’ve started to reach out your hand
Mothers and daughters, sisters and brothers starve inside and outside the jails
If we don’t help them now we won’t need to ask how this human rights protest will fail
Starving for human rights she won’t give up the fight let her know neither will we
For as long as the fascists are in control there they’ll come closer to you and to me.

©(p)Pól Mac Adaim.2002. Reality Records.

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Bigots scaring children.

Let our children go to school, you’ve broken every human rule
The world sees you for what you are, bombing children won’t keep you in power
Bigots scaring children is what you are

All our children want to do is learn, for education deals with such concern
Ignorance only breeds fear, prejudice feeds hate and violence here
It only makes the situation more unclear

Your demonstration clearly says ‘Orchestrated by the U.D.A’(Fascist Paramilitaries)
Perhaps you think that everyone is blind? Or because we’re slightly different doesn’t mean we have no minds
One day you might realise that we are all mankind, but that might take some time

Let our children go to school, you’ve broken every human rule
The world sees you for what you are, bombing children won’t keep you in power
Bigots scaring children is what you are

Or maybe YOU could go to school, it might teach you a thing or two
That human beings can be the same, that doesn’t mean our children can be blamed
Bigots just like you should be ashamed.

©Pól Mac Adaim. Reality records 2002. IMRO Reg.

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I don’t know.

Well it’s hard to plan too far ahead in a world that’s less alive than dead
With rivers full of mercury, the air’s not even poison free
They’re digging tunnels in the ground to pour their nuclear wastage down
Safe in a million years or so in the meantime I don’t know

Oh! The Irish Sea it used to be so full of life and greenery,
now all we get are fish that glow, sea weed that burns and sand like snow
And there’s a hole up in the ‘o zone’ how it got there no one knows
how we’re gonna patch it up is a mystery I suppose

Chorus ;-)

They’re selling nuclear shelters just in case they drop ‘the bomb’
And for anyone afraid of ‘aids’ they’ve an ‘extra thick’ condom
New world order’s on it’s feet, kids can’t get enough to eat
And they’re making millions selling dope to those who’ve lost all hope

It’s looking bad alright, you say. It seems as if we’ve lost our way
Destruction must be close at hand and everyone must understand
That the governments and bosses too don’t give a shit for me and you
The working class is still in chains despite their talks of gains.

Chorus

Yes it’s hard to plan too far ahead in a world that’s more alive than dead
With rivers full of mercury, the air’s not even poison free
They’re digging tunnels in the ground to pour their nuclear wastage down
Safe in a million years or so in the meantime I don’t know

©(p)G.Adams & Pól Mac Adaim. Reality Records 2002.

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Internationale

Lord Baker.

There was a Lord who lived in this land
He being a Lord of high degree
He set his foot down a ship's board
And swore strange countries he would go see.

He's travelled east and he's travelled west
He travelled north and the south also
Until he arrived into Turkey land.
There he was taken and bound in prison
Until his life it grew weary.

Oh! Turkey bold had one only daughter
As fair a lady, as the eye could see
She stole the key to her Daddy's harbour
And swore Lord Baker, she would set free.

Singing, 'You have houses and you have money,
All Northumber belongs to thee
What would you will to Turkey's daughter
If out of prison she'd set you free?'

Singing, 'I have houses, I have money,
All Northumber belongs to me
I would will them all to you my darling,
If out of prison you’d set me free?'

She's brought him down to her Daddy's harbour
And filled for him was the ship of fame
And every toast that she did drink round him,
'I wish Lord Baker that you were mine.'

They made a vow for seven years
And seven more for to keep it strong
Saying 'If you don't wed with no other woman
I'm sure I'll wed with no other man.'

And seven years been past and over
And seven more they were rolling on
She's bundled up all her golden clothing
And swore Lord Baker she would go find.

She's travelled East and she's travelled West
Until she came to the palace of fame
'Who is that, who is that?' said the bold young porter
'Who knocks so gently and can't get in?'

'Is this Lord Baker's palace?' replied the lady
'Or is his lordship himself within?'
'This is Lord Baker's palace' replied the porter,
'This very day took a new bride in.'

'Well ask him send me a cut of his wedding cake
A glass of his wine that been e'er so strong
And to remember the brave young lady
Who did release him in Turkey land.'

In goes, in goes, the bold young porter
Kneels down gently on his right knee
'Rise up, rise up now the bold young porter,
What news, what news have you got for me?'

Singing, 'I have news of a grand arrival,
As fair a lady as the eye could see
She is at the gate
Waiting for your charity.'

'She wears a gold ring on every finger,
And on the middle one where she wears three,
She has more gold hanging around her middle
Than'd buy Northumber and family.'

'She asked you send her a cut of your wedding cake
A glass of your wine, it been e'er so strong,
And to remember the brave young lady
Who did release you in Turkey land.'

Down comes, down comes the new bride's mother
'What will I do with my daughter dear?'
Your daughter came with one pack of gold
I'll avert her home now, with thirty-three.'
He took his sword all by the handle
And cut the wedding cake, in pieces three
Singing 'here's a slice for the new bride's mother
A slice for me new love and one for me.'

And then Lord Baker, ran to his darling
Of twenty-one steps, he made but three
He put his arms around Turkey's daughter
And kissed his true love, most tenderly.

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The Red Flag.

The people's flag is deepest red,
It shrouded oft our martyred dead,
And ere their limbs grew stiff and cold,
Their hearts blood dyed its every fold.

Chorus-:)

Then raise the scarlet standard high.
Within its shade we'll live and die,
Though cowards flinch and traitors sneer,
We'll keep the red flag flying here.

Look round, the Frenchman loves its blaze,
The sturdy German chants its praise,
In Moscow's vaults its hymns are sung
Chicago swells the surging throng.

It waved above our infant might,
When all ahead seemed dark as night;
It witnessed many a deed and vow,
We must not change its colour now.

It well recalls the triumphs past,
It gives the hope of peace at last;
The banner bright, the symbol plain,
Of human right and human gain.

With heads uncovered swear we all
To bear it onward till we fall;
Come dungeons dark or gallows grim,
This song shall be our parting hymn.

Written by Jim Connell

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Such a Parcel of Rogues.

Farewell to all our Scottish fame
Farewell our ancient glory
Farewell even tae our Scottish name
So famed in martial story
Now the Sark runs o'er the Solway sands
And the Tweed runs to the ocean
To mark where England's province stands
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation

What force or guile could not subdue
Through many war like ages
Is wrecked now by the coward few
For hireling traitor's wages
The English steel we could disdain
Secure in valour's station
But we’re bought and we’re sold for English gold
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation

O what e’er I had seen the day
That treason thus would sell us
My old grey head had lain in clay
With Bruce and loyal Wallace
But pith and power till my last hour
I'll make this declaration
That we're bought and sold for English gold
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation

Written by Robbie Burns

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Joe Hill.

I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night alive as you and me.
Says I, "But Joe, you're ten years dead",
"I never died", says he.
"I never died", said he.

“In Salt Lake Joe, by God” said I, him standing by my bed
“They framed you on a murder charge”
said Joe “But I ain’t dead.”
said Joe “But I ain’t dead.”

"The copper bosses killed you, Joe. They shot you, Joe", says I.
"Takes more than guns to kill a man", says Joe, "I didn't die!"
Says Joe, "I didn't die!"

And standing there as large as life and smiling with his eyes,
Says Joe, "What they forgot to kill went on to organize.
Went on to organize"

From San Diego up to Maine in every mine and mill
Where working men fight for their rights
It's there you'll find Joe Hill
It's there you'll find Joe Hill

I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night alive as you or me.
Says I, "But Joe, you're ten years dead",
"I never died", said he.
"I never died", said he.

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Sacco and Vanzetti.

Oh say there, have you heard the news
Sacco worked at trimming shoes
Vanzetti was a rambling man
Pushed his cart round with his hands

(chorus)

Two good men's a long time gone
Sacco and Vanzetti are gone
Two good men's a long time gone
Left me here to sing this song

Sacco was born across the sea
Somewhere over Italy
Vanzetti came from parents fine
Drank the best Italian wine
Sacco sailed the sea one day
Ended up in the Boston bay
Vanzetti sailed the ocean blue
Ended up in Boston too.

Sacco was a family man
Sacco's wife three children had
Vanzetti was a dreaming man
A book was always in his hand
Sacco made his bread and butter
Being the factory's best shoe-cutter
Vanzetti worked both day and night
Taught the people how to fight

I'll tell you if you ask me
About the payroll robbery
Two clerks were shot in the shoe factory
There in the streets of old Braintree
I'll tell you the prosecutors' names
Katman, Adams, Williams, Kane
Them and the judge were the best of friends
Pulled more tricks than circus clowns

The judge he told his friends around
"Gonna put them rebels down"
"Communist bastards!!" was the name
The judge he gave these two fine men
I won’t forget those men who died
They taught poor people how to live
Everybody ought to be
Just Like Sacco and Vanzetti

Written Woody Guthrie

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The Lakes of Ponchartrain.

It was one fine March morning, I bid New Orleans Adieu
And I took the road to Jackson Town, my fortune to renew
I cursed all foreign money, no credit could I gain
Which filled my heart with a longing for, the Lakes of Ponchartrain

I stepped on board of a railroad car beneath the morning sun
I rode the rods till evening and I laid me down again
All strangers there no friends to me 'til a dark girl towards me came
And I fell in love with the Creole Girl, by the Lakes of Ponchartrain

I said "Me pretty Creole Girl, me money here's no good,
If it weren't for the alligators, I'd sleep out there in the wood"
"You're welcome here kind stranger, from such sad thoughts refrain"
"For me Mammy welcomes strangers, by the Lakes of Ponchartrain"

She took me into her mammy's house and treated me right well
The hair upon her shoulders in jet black ringlets fell
To try and paint here beauty, I'm sure 'twould be in vain
So handsome was my Creole girl by the Lakes of Ponchartrain

I asked her if she'd marry me, she said that ne'er could be
For she had got a lover and he was far at sea
She said that she would wait for him and true she would remain
Till he'd return to his Creole girl, on the Lakes of Ponchartrain

So fare thee well, me Creole girl, I'll never see you more
I'll never forget your kindness in the cottage by the shore
And at each social gathering, a flowing bowl I'll drain
And I'll drink a health to my Creole girl, by the Lakes of Ponchartrain

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Website by Pedalsoft © 2002-03. Designers, Cathy: cmpedler@eisa.net.au

& Pól: polmacadaim@oceanfree.net

 



Website by Pedalsoft © 2002-03. Designers, Cathy: cmpedler@eisa.net.au

& Pól: polmacadaim@hotmail.com