Hazel White
Singer / Songwriter / Poet





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For the Memories

Capo 4th fret. Chords: G AM D D7

Chorus I'll always' be a three chord trick on my guitar
I'll never be rich or famous I'll never be a star.
I'm going to sit back and enjoy the crack,
With everyone of you and take comfort from all
The memories for when I get old or feel blue.

When I was just a little child five years old or so
I used to tread the boards on the Saturday talent shows
Dancing in my top hat and tales twirling around my Cain
Doing the steps and the piroets like dancers I'd seen on the big screen
Time and time again I,d try and sometimes I would sing
But no matter how I tried to do my best I never did win
And how I remember mothers words loud and clear
Fame and fortune don't come easy theres 'no time for tears

Until the time that I left school I still lived in hope
that I might on day broaden my horizons that’s the way
you cope with the way things are when there not the way you like
Singing my songs around the house and sometimes riding my bike
And how I would look forward to the club on Sunday nights
When I stand on stage and sing my songs under the bright lights
For to ba a singer on songs was everything to me
But earning my pay in a 9 to 5 I knew that never would be.


Those days’ long gone seem like only yesterday
How time has flown and with it a new way.
As we travel along lifes’ journey venturing far and wide
The ambitions of youth fade away and get left behind
And the purpose for being here is not what we once thought
Learn to ride with the tide for happiness can’t be bought
And as the lessons of living teach us we find
When true love enters our life new dreams fill the mind.



Pour Another Whisky

Pour another whisky sing another song
Pour another whisky the day is far too long
Pour another whisky sing another song
Remembering the old times that are gone
Remembering the old times that are gone .

Verse 1
Perched on his stool so early in the day
He’s drinking golden whisky sitting at the bar
That brings back memories from afar.
That brings back memories from afar.
The expensive watch and the golden rings
show a past where money has brought many things.
But now he’s in his sunset years
After a life of a traveling career.


He has returned to the land that gave him birth
The land of the mountain the moor and the bog
Where once he had struggled to survive.
Through the wind the rain and the fog
But many things have changed since he went away
In the name of progress many things have decayed
For the places that once gave him joy ,
The bulldozers have now destroyed.


Verse 3

His family have died or emigrated,
No one local bears his name.
And he sits with his friends from the past,
Now aware that his present life won’t last.
His hands tremble as he holds his glass
And he lights his cigarette with the help of a lad.
And he lives in the twilight world of reminisce
Which to the onlooker bare no persistence

Chorus Twice.

AM G C D chords Capo 2nd Fret.


She’s his lady of the day she’s his favour of the week.
Whenever you see him it’s a different one you’ll meet.
Be she tall dark and pretty or short blond and flirty,
Be she thin or fat he does not think about that,
As long as they are happy, sure 'tis his only challenge.


He’s the Kerry Casanova a man to be sure,
Who, likes the ladies and after all .
What else is there to make his perfect day.
Than to go out hunting at night for some play.
Than to go hunting in search of the play.

Verse 3
He’s a widow’s delight on a cold and frosty night,
He’s a spinster’s dream, the man that she had seen.
He’s a nun’s temptation, a cause of frustration,
He’s a friend or lover an uncle or a brother.
And he’ll be there on a dark and lonely night

Verse 4
With a charm that glistens when he hug’s you tight,
A smile that could melt the coldest of ice
and a warmth that flows from within his heart.
And whatever you may think of this Casanova,
Let’s hope that he’ll always be a joyful rambling rover.

Verse 5
When the coach parties are in town you’ll find him there,
With his guitar and his songs he’ll sing the whole night long.
Until he catches the eye of some lonesome female,
Then like a fox, out a hunting he will go.
Will this one say yes or will she tell him no.

Verse 6
He's a happy wondering rover this Kerry Casanova,
As he rambles throughout his own native land.
You will see him Galway as he travels on his way,
Then in County Clare you might well find him there.
But when summer comes around its in Kerry he’ll be found.

Updated 2004 no chorus as such just repeat first or second verse.

Listowel to Lurgan.

Now Listowel to Lurgan sure is a long, long way
And we set of late morning to journey on our way .
It was true boggy weather rain and mist and all,
But only to be expected when you travel over moor.
My mate the driver was not used to Irelands roads,
Now the bumpy roads across Erin's land
Caused my glasses to fall right into my hand.
And we speeded along like bats out of hell
I was reading the map but you really could not tell.
And by the time we got to Limerick I knew,
That the journey was not going to go well .

As we got to the traffic lights a right we had to take,
But the driver knowing best went on straight.
And all through the city centre we did crawl along.
At the point of leaving at the very last round about,
I pointed to the road where we would have come out.
Now having wasted an hour so early in the day,
To Dublin city we headed on our weary way.
Is was not long after this we went wrong again,
I asked if they’d be deaf no, so why go right instead of left.
The signpost showed Fotuma somewhere near Galway
This time I was not best amused and shouted wrong way!

Now the rest of the journey well it was just the same,
So I will not bore you with details but needless to say.
It was about 9 in the evening when Aunties door we knocked,
Despite the fact it was her bedtime she insisted on making tea.
Now Aunty was getting worried where were we going to sleep?
She wished had a room , but there scant room to swing a cat!
And finally she let us go having promised to go back.
The only place that we could find to lay our weary heads,
A posh Hotel in its own grounds where golfers lay their heads
Now this was the first Tuesday in the month of March,
A session in the bar and my throat was rather parched

Now all the thoughts of an early night just vanished from my head,
With a pint of the good old black stuff and a small one as well.
I found a quiet corner and leant against the wall,
Some time had elapsed and I was feeling quite relaxed
And joining in the chorus’s taking in the grand craic
The bar was very busy with locals and visitors alike,
And the musicians were a friendly crowd and one of them,
Was looking around for any one singing out loud.
It never ceases to surprise me just what hospitality can do,
And as requested I aired with them a song or two
It surely was a joy to me, to find myself in such good company.

Next morning back to Aunties a promise we had to keep.
She plied us with tea and biscuits, with buoyant Belfast jest
Then we ran an errand to the town, armed police on the street,
Strange to see! yet the people so friendly, same as you and me.
Then on returning to Aunty she said that she’d come with us,
There must be room in a suitcase she wouldn’t be any trouble
No need to make a fuss, she was up for a good time and Co Kerry sounded quite fine,
for she hadn’t been on a journey for such along time.
Aunty Mary Beattie ninety one years young standing there
With her back so straight, deaf as a post she said she was
Eyes bright blue that could hardly see her smile meant the world to me

Now the journey home, its true to say took the whole of a day,
Knowing that if we went fast, my good humour would not last.
I said I’d found a better way to get to Listowel during that day
At Newry we took a right on the country lanes we ventured along
Through places we’d never seen before and never likely to see again
Nothing but complaints from my mate as we could not go fast
We would be late, not going more than 50miles per hour,
As at directed at me was a course and a scour.
It really was a very good day and we didn’t end up going the wrong way
And the journey it truly was worthwhile for Aunty Mary Betties’
Yes Aunty Mary Betties Lovely smile

Aunty Mary Beattie ninety one years young standing there,
With her back so straight, deaf as a post she said she was.
Eyes’ bright blue that could hardly see her smile meant the world to me.
She said that she would come with us she wouldn’t be any trouble,
No need to make a fuss, she was up for a good time
And Co kerry sounded quite fine, she hadn’t been on a journey
For such a long long time! For such a long long time.

Across the Glen

I could see you once across the glen, from my window
On a warm summers day we could wave and shout and say, horo.
And On a cold winters night I’d see your lights and the smoke rise from your chimney, in the pale moonlight,
But alas no more those simple comforting thoughts, can I feel
The forest planted some years ago has grown, so, we cannot see each other anymore and has darkened our lives that’s for sure.

Ireland is changing, it’s here to see, on the horizon,
In a gap through the mountains you once could see the sea.
But no more the setting sun on the wild rolling foam can be seen,
And when those that have left return to visit home,
The changes that meet their eyes, the dark green pines meet the sky’s
And tourists that return to see Ireland’s beauty wonder why,
There are so many ruined vistas greeting their eyes.

Twenty acres here 100 acres there, planted anywhere.
Marching through the valley’s over mountains, and down the hills,
From Wicklow to Tipperary Limerick and Kerry joined up like dominos
The pine forests grows, once the trees are planted there be no going back, when trees are felled more will be put back
The land is not good for much and a living must be made.
Gone yet another sunny glade.

Tall and dark they stand for far too many years and if the woods not needed,
there’ll be no money on the table where are the Oak and Ash Birch and Maple.
Lyreacrompane means tussocks of grass and Glenderry means vale of the Oakwood, Kerry a kingdom, her colours green and gold,
But soon all we will have is pine tree kingdom growing, to be sold.
And that feeling of freedom fast disappearing as this stories’ told.

I could see you once across the glen, from my window.
On a warm summers day we’d wave shout and say horo
And on a cold winters night I’d see your lights and the smoke
rise from your chimney in the pale moonlight.

September 8th 2005. Hazel White, Glanaderhig Final Edit April 06.




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