Glenswilly by Melanie Curran
fare thee well my honey where ever you may travel
may you never want for money far across the sea
remember to tread gentle don't take more than is owed you
nothin’ comes for nothin in the land of the free
chorus!
when you see the house of the rising sun
or lie your head in the fields of green
remember me as the one who loved you best
back in old glenswilly
take good care of this fine hewn leather satchel
remember say a prayer for your arrival at the shore
lend your hand to the ones who come behind you
never turn your back on the ones who’ve come before
chorus
when you breathe that air well you’re not the first to breathe it
when you take that train well you’re not the first to ride
take your time with the pangs of bereavement
glenswilly’s not a place so easily let behind
chorus
when you’re old and grey and your poor bones grow brittle
and they lay you in the clay and mark you with a stone
I’ll be there to meet you in the middle
and guide you on your way as you take the long way home
chorus
— I wrote this song for my great grandpa Frank Curran, coming from the perspective of his caregiver back in Glenswilly, County Donegal, Ireland. Maybe these words are the words of parting that were never shared but always felt. He left for America when he was about 13.