Oh my…poor Nanalou has been worried sick about her #Burgeron106 family traveling over to the #Prisoner106 village. While they are continuing to travel back and forth (Dr. M’s teleporter appears to still be working.) She’s been preparing herself to distribute missing persons posters around the Bovine County Fairy Tale festival grounds and on-line- just in case they become permanent residents of The Village.
She and SuperMoo have been quite the pair. While he’s been moooooning over Anna Cow– writing her love songs and all – Nanalou found a song in that old Celtic Lyre song book herself: “The Isle of Mist“.
She’s been changing the lyrics and asked me if I’d help her out by singing her version, “The Trailer of Woes”, when she’s finished. I agreed and I asked Cousin Ron if he wouldn’t mind making us a quick recording of the melody. It’s been tough to get the timing down, and the written vocal range felt a bit high when I was sitting down to learn it the other morning. I think I should be able to pull it off if I warm up my voice first.
If I ever figure out the guitar chords that might go with this music, I’ve agreed to pass them along to Cousin Ron. At this point I’ve sort of given up hope on that front. Plucking out the notes on my guitar, as if it were a Lyre, may be all I can do. I did ask @vivienrolfe of the Headless Inkspots if she could maybe try her hand at a fuller music arrangement. She was excited by the challenge and even has a few days off to give it a go.
Below are the lyrics NanaLou working with.
The Trailer of Woe
(New Lyrics by NanaLou, click here to listen to the melody)
Thru trials great and sor-row,
Her grey head now en-shroud,
And her life’s sun is sett-ting
be-hind a dark-some cloud;
Yet still she’s fondly long-ing ___
O would the day were come;
To see your shining faces,
At the Burgeron Trailer home.
‘Tis forty days and more now,
Since from the Trailer you set,
And in The Village waters
Cast forth your fishing net
And though you got a number
To fill your house with store;
You still must ne’er forget thee,
Your trailer home of yore.
All who have ears to hear it,
Or tongues the tale to tell,
Come join with me in singing
The woes that did befell;
How hundreds of our people
From hill and glen were torn,
And far across the ocean
From their loved trailer were borne
Farewell, dear friends and kinsfolk,
Wherever you may roam,
Both young and old, in exile,
Far from your trailer home;
And O, remember NanaLou,
When laid her sirens among;
‘Twas cruel wrong and sorrow
First wak’d her soul to song.
Update (7-12-15 final version uploaded to SoundCloud)
- Femme Lyre: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Femme_lyre.jpg
- “The Isle Of Mist” can be found at: https://archive.org/stream/celticlyrecollec04whyt#page/n3/mode/2up