08. Across The Breeze


08. Across The Breeze



From April 2012 a new law in Ireland will mean that
when my neighbours cut their turf, they will be committing
a criminal offence. This song is inspired by
160 letters written by my neighbours to the European
Commissioner for the Environment.

We are good people
We mean nobody harm
Beyond your cities
In bog lands and in farms
Close together
We love our place
We are strong
We face what we must face
I hear my father’s voice across the breeze
Watch my children work all summer long
I see the turf smoke rising
From the chimney tops
Carrying our stories and songs
I hear my mother calling
The evening’s closing in
We’ll work another while
Before the rain begins
Winter will be warm
When all the turf is stored
And come next springtime
We’ll be bound for bog once
I hear my father’s
As my father did
So will I do
To the dream he lived by
I’ll be true
For the skylark and the blackbird
Know me well
And this place without people
Has no tale to tell
I hear my father’s voice across the breeze…

Luka Bloom, guitar, vocals
Rita Connolly, vocals
Máirtín O’Connor, accordion
Dirk Powell, banjo, mandolin
Donal Lunny, Bodhrán


There are no reviews yet.

Be the first to review “08. Across The Breeze”

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Close Menu