Michael
Johnny McEvoy Lyrics
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And he looked down on the road bellow
Him that wound its way through Beal Na m
Blath.
And he heard the young men shouting and cursing,
Running backward and forward,
Dodging weaving and ducking the bullets that
Rained down on them from the hillside opposite.
Stopped, And a terrible silence hung over the valley.
A lone figure lay on the roadside in the drizzling august rain,
Dressed in green great coat, leggings and brown hob nail boots,
That would never again set the sparks flying from the
Kitchen flagstones as he danced his way through a half set.
A hurried whispered act of contrition and the firing breaks out again.
Candles dripping blood, they placed beside your shoulders,
The curlew takes to flight and as he flies out over the empty sad
Fields of West Cork,
With his lonesome call he must tell the world that
The big fella has fallen and that Michael is gone.
On a far off August day, cold young men in ambush lay,
On a roadside by a hill where flowers grow,
So much hate for one so young,
Who was right and who was wrong,
Though a thousand years may pass we'll never know.
Candles dripping blood, they placed beside your shoulders,
Rosary beads like teardrops on your fingers,
Friends and comrades standin by, in their grief they wonder why,
Michael in their hour of need you had to go.
And when evening twlight came, gentle fell the August rain,
Oh but you lay still and silent on the ground,
As we hung our heads in prayer, in our sorrow and dispare,
We wondered was it friend or foe who shot you down,
Candles dripping blood, they placed beside your shoulders,
Rosary beads like teardrops on your fingers,
Friends and comrades standin by,
In their grief they wonder why,
Michael in their hour of need you had to go.
Now the flame that you held high, when you called out to the sky,
To end this senseless killing and this shame,
Has now passed to other hands and is carried
Through the land By some not fit to even speak your name.
Candles dripping blood, they placed beside your shoulders,
Rosary beads like teardrops on your fingers,
Friends and comrades standin by,
In their grief they wonder why,
Michael in their hour of need you had to go.
Michael in our hour of need why did you go
The lyrics of "Michael" by Johnny McEvoy tell a powerful and tragic story of a young man named Michael who was killed during a conflict in Beal Na m Blath, Ireland. The song opens with a curlew bird observing the chaos below as young men are dodging bullets from the hillside, shouting and cursing. The firing stops, but a lone figure dressed in green great coat is left on the roadside in the August rain. The act of contrition is hurriedly whispered, and the firing starts again. The curlew takes flight and must tell the world that Michael has fallen and is gone.
The chorus of the song features the repeated line "Candles dripping blood, they placed beside your shoulders, Rosary beads like teardrops on your fingers." This powerful image highlights the grief and sorrow of Michael's friends and comrades as they wonder why he had to go in their hour of need. The second verse suggests that even after a thousand years, it may never be known who was truly right or wrong. The flame that Michael held high in calling for an end to the senseless killing is now carried by others, but the song questions whether they are truly fit to carry on his legacy.
Overall, "Michael" is a poignant and emotional tribute to a young man who lost his life during a time of conflict, and it asks profound questions about the nature of war, violence, and grief.
Line by Line Meaning
The curlew stood silent and unseen in the long damp grass,
The curlew bird was quietly perched in the tall, moist grass, out of sight from the commotion below.
And he looked down on the road bellow
The bird surveyed the scene below, focused on the road winding through the valley.
Him that wound its way through Beal Na m
Blath.
The road cut through the town of Beal Na m Blath.
And he heard the young men shouting and cursing,
Running backward and forward,
Dodging weaving and ducking the bullets that
Rained down on them from the hillside opposite.
The curlew heard the chaos below as young men were yelling, dodging, and running from bullets being fired from the opposite hillside.
Just as quickly as it started the firing
Stopped, And a terrible silence hung over the valley.
The shooting ended abruptly and a dreadful silence fell over the valley.
A lone figure lay on the roadside in the drizzling august rain,
Dressed in green great coat, leggings and brown hob nail boots,
That would never again set the sparks flying from the
Kitchen flagstones as he danced his way through a half set.
A solitary figure, dressed in their traditional green attire, lay on the wet roadside in the August rain, never to dance again.
A hurried whispered act of contrition and the firing breaks out again.
An apology was quickly whispered and the shooting resumed again.
Candles dripping blood, they placed beside your shoulders,
The curlew takes to flight and as he flies out over the empty sad
Fields of West Cork,
With his lonesome call he must tell the world that
The big fella has fallen and that Michael is gone.
Candles, resembling blood, were positioned beside the fallen figure while the curlew flies over the desolate fields of West Cork, mournfully announcing the loss of the famed 'Big Fella', Michael Collins.
On a far off August day, cold young men in ambush lay,
On a roadside by a hill where flowers grow,
So much hate for one so young,
Who was right and who was wrong,
Though a thousand years may pass we'll never know.
On a distant August day, young men lay in ambush on a roadside near a hill with flowers. So much animosity towards someone so young— the right and wrong remains unknown even after a millennium.
Candles dripping blood, they placed beside your shoulders,
Rosary beads like teardrops on your fingers,
Friends and comrades standin by, in their grief they wonder why,
Michael in their hour of need you had to go.
As candles dripped blood-like wax beside Michael's lifeless form, sorrowful friends and comrades were standing with rosary beads, wondering why he had to leave them during their darkest hour.
And when evening twilight came, gentle fell the August rain,
Oh but you lay still and silent on the ground,
As we hung our heads in prayer, in our sorrow and despair,
We wondered was it friend or foe who shot you down,
As evening twilight arrived in the form of gentle August rain, Michael lay there motionless on the ground while mourners bowed their heads in sadness and questioned if the shot came from a friend or foe.
Now the flame that you held high, when you called out to the sky,
To end this senseless killing and this shame,
Has now passed to other hands and is carried
Through the land By some not fit to even speak your name.
The passion and determination that Michael had to end the senseless death and indignity has been passed down to others who are undeserving to even mention his name.
Michael in our hour of need why did you go
This line serves as a reflection on how Michael Collins' death impacted a nation and questions why someone so needed had to go.
Writer(s): mcevoy
Contributed by Lauren D. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
@cliffcollins4608
On a far off August day, cold young men in ambush lay
On a roadside on a hill where flowers grow
So much hate for one so young, who was right and who was wrong
Though a thousand years may pass we’ll never know
CHORUS
Candles dripping blood, they placed beside your shoulders
Rosary beads like teardrops on your fingers
Friends and comrades standin by, in their grief they wonder why
Michael in our hour of need you had to go
And when evening twilight came, gentle fell the August rain
Oh but you lay still and silent on the ground
As we hung our heads in prayer, in our sorrow and dispare
We wondered was it friend or foe who shot you down
Chorus
Now the flame that you held high, when you called out to the sky
To end this senseless killing and this shame
Has now passed to other hands and is carried through the land
By some not fit to even speak your name
@seanbrown453
Michael Collins was a true Irish hero who fought for freedom
@CaptainScreech
Can you imagine if today we had just one politician with the heart and knowledge and the guts to stand up and lead like Michael Collins?! This world wouldn’t be as messed up as it is now! God bless Michael Collins.
@TheBoru2011
Collins used enemy forces and munitions to kill his comrades, No Hero :
@user-fj6qr9ts1y
We may not have Collins but we have the Ivy,...
@paulbergin6301
100 years tomorrow, and he will never be forgotten. 🇮🇪🇮🇪🇮🇪🇮🇪
@williammccabe7340
I love all all our man and woman who give up life for Ireland to much people have died don't get me roung I will always stand beside our man and woman u have to talk about things if I don't thing never change it takes to country's or to men or women we have the right to have our country 32 back to much dide have died on both sides polatinons don't care it's all about making money for them selves we vote them in they live in their countrys big houses and money fuc. Them
@mairewhite9814
Rest in peace, Michael Collins. Thank you, Johnny Mc Evoy for your heartfelt tribute to an amazing human being and TRUE patriot.
@gerardlarkinhaverstock743
The greatest son of Erin who ever live and die for his county.
@kellydugan2305
I visited Ireland with my late father a few years ago. Michael Collins was one of Dad's personal heroes, so I took Dad to visit Michael Collins' grave at Glasnevin on our last day in Ireland. I'll never forget the way Dad wept, he was so overcome with emotion. The story of Michael Collins is a true Irish tragedy, and all I could think at the time standing there in front of his grave was that he was the same age when he died as I was at the time (early 30s). So sad.
@johnkennedy972
Av been to glasnevin and arbour hill all Ireland most courageous soldiers are buried in both plots a seen Pearse cell in killmaneim jail were all the leadership were executed av been to the spot they stood at 90 years before they were killed rest in peace our 16 leadership the last sir Rodger was executed by the British in England the last of our leaders may god bless our patriot dead thee who dies for Erin lives on in the hearts and minds of all true republicans wherever they may be from Glasgow🇮🇪32