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THE MAN BRANSFIELD
05:53
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THE MAN BRANSFIELD
From the deck of his father’s boat at dawn they hauled him
Across the Irish Sea with no goodbye
On the tides that sweep out south from Ballinacurra
Round the world and back to Brighton Town to die.
We’ve robbed a man we thought a native nets man
We placed our bets, he painted with the sky
He sailed us east and west, he sang us songlines
Mapped the stars to chart safe places where we’ll lie.
We drank black rum when French big guns were sounding
Around about us gathered on the deck
But the fisherman they caught in Irish waters
Knew the rounds were the last ones they had left.
At Algiers we followed into battle
An Irishman they stole for England’s prize
The slaves he said we’ll save from persecution
Or face the flames and pay them with our lives.
Valparaiso, Chile, is a place where
The people lean their lives into the wind
We followed when he landed in a hailstorm
Black masts bent hard, white sails against them pinned.
Further south through seas the size of hillsides
In winter back home when gales blow and we hope
The stones that line the rooftops in our hometowns
Hold better than a sudden twist of rope.
Spring tides rise tonight in Ballinacurra
Where the river meets the sea a small boat hauls
Homeward on the current to set anchor
A candle lit, a single snowflake falls.
They buried Edward Bransfield, not a note played
No sign of the flag that press-ganged him from home
Cold the Southern Ocean where the wind blows
‘Two high mountains, covered in snow.’
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THE DIVINERS Cork, Ireland
Blending invention with tradition, THE DIVINERS are an innovative trad/folk band.
Accomplished multi-instrumentalists, what sets them apart is the depth and authenticity of the songs and tunes they compose.
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