Long gone are the days where families met of an eve,
Songs were sung of a joyful theme, or ballads enriched with sorrow and grief.
Stories were told, laughter shared. The bond of blood strong and whole.
From the street and the pubs, to a living room, away the family stole.
Patriotic lark of a good natured sort, troubles were mourned and passion spread.
Standing by the fireplace, smiles all round. Eyes closed, souls well fed.
Sisters and brothers put their quarrels aside, and joined together in song.
Fiddles, banjos and tin whistles sounding all night long.
Lads courted lassies and serenaded them of an eve,
Before night called and the lads took their leave.
Children sang haunting rhymes, and with ashes fell to the ground.
And played with toys made from whatever they found.
When times were rough families united. Friends and lovers stood side by side.
Quarrels forgotten. Love ensued. Because with passion, together they were tied.
To gain knowledge people read books, or asked for the wise word of an elder.
Wealth didn't matter. With family people took shelter.
Shelter from the blight, shelter from pain. Shelter from attacks, shelter from all.
Together they stood. Holding eachother up, singing proudly and standing tall.