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Gaelic Storm
Gaelic Storm


Background information
Origin Santa Monica, California, USA
Genre(s) Celtic Rock
Celtic
Years active 1996—present
Label(s) Lost Again Records
Website Website
Members
Patrick Murphy
Steve Twigger
Ryan Lacey
Peter Purvis
Jessie Burns
Former members
Shasha Zhang
Bob Banerjee
Tom Brown
Samantha Hunt
Kathleen Keane
Ellery Klein
Shep Lonsdale
Steve Wehmeyer
Brian Walsh



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  G  →  Gaelic Storm  →  Albums  →  How Are We Getting Home?

Gaelic Storm Album


How Are We Getting Home? (2004)
2004
1.
2.
3.
4.
Stain the Grout (Instrumental)
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
The Lone-Star Stowaway (Instrumental)
10.
11.
12.
13.
Cab Ride To Kingston (Instrumental)
14.
15.
. . .


When I was a baby boy,
Me mammy said to me,
"Don't mess around with them Irish Girls,
They'll never let you be!"
I went off to Dublin,
To see what I could see...
They filled me up with whiskey, boys!
They never let me be!

Chorus:
I miss my home!
The chimney stacks and the cobbled streets I roam,
Wherever I go, when I find myself alone,
I just close my eyes and the memories take me home.

When I was a little boy,
Me mammy said to me,
Don't mess around with them French girls, they'll never let you be,
I took a trip to Paris, France,
To see what I could see...
They filled me up with Ooh la la!
They never let me be!

Chorus

When I was a young man,
Me mammy said to me,
Stay away from all those Yankee girls,
They'll never let you be,
So I went to New York City,
To see what I could see,
They put mustard on me hot dog, boys!
They never let me be!

Chorus

It's finally plain to see,
They'll never let you be,
I should have listened to all the things,
Me mammy said to me!
Chorus:
And now I am an old man,
At the age of 93
I'm on my way to heaven, boys,
To see what I can see,
St. Peter's at them pearly gates,
And as he opens up the door,
He says you're not finished yet me b'yyyy!
You're goin' back for more!

Chorus

. . .


Let me introduce meself,
Me name ‘tis Paddy Green
I am me mammy's pride and joy
A fine oul' buachaillin!
I come from the county Waterford,
Near the village of Tramore,
I've been living at home since I was one,
And now I'm forty-four!

Chorus:
I was born to be a Bachelor,
I'll never walk down the aisle,
Me mam still makes me breakfast,
(I'm) Livin' it up in shtyle,
Girls, ye'll never catch me,
Stayin' single, that's the plan
I was born to be a Bachelor,
Sure I'm yer only man! Hah?

Into town on the Saturday night,
All the b'ys go on a spree,
If you come down to the dishco,
You can have a drink with me!
With the ladies on the dance floor,
I'm a wild and crazy guy,
In me white socks and me black suede shoes,
and me thin red leather tie!

Chorus

Then it's off to mass next morning,
I'm wearin' me Sunday best,
I've got no wife to fight with,
So I've no sins to confess!
After church, the married men
go home, oh what a shame!
‘Cause I'm scullin' da pints down at the pub
I'm watchin' the football game!

Chorus

I'm a ramblin' ranter, I'm a rollin' stone,
I'm a galavanter' g'wan an leave me alone,
If yer out to get married, you'll get no joy,
Cause I was born and bred to be a bachelor boy!
Up in Lisdoonvarna,
They've an old matchmaker's fair,
The girls all go a huntin'
So you'll never see me there!
I've got a Russian sweetheart,
A fine oul' thing is she!
She's out in Vladivostok
And that's close enough for me!

Chorus x2

. . .


I said farewell to Erin, only seven years ago,
When asked where I was headed, I said: “Jaysus, I dunno!?”
I stepped ashore near Bangalore, not a tosser in me hand,
By the time I hit Darjeeling, I was feeling mighty grand!

Chorus:
You can keep your forty shades of green, they only make me blue,
You can stick your eggs and bacon, boys, I'll have a Vindaloo,
I found a place in India, so far across the foam,
You can call me Punjab Paddy, boys, I'm never comin' home.

I dreamed I got a letter from me darling Josephine,
She asked me would I marry her, back home in Skibbereen,
But the girls out here have almond eyes and jasmine-scented hair,
And there's things in the Kama Sutra that they never do in Clare!
So I'll spend me days relaxing in me Punjab paradise,
No more I'll dig the praties, I'll stick to tea and rice.
I'll be sippin' mango lassi with the lassies in the shade,
While yer man called Ravi Shankar plays “The Boys of the Oul' Brigade!”

Chorus:
You can keep your Miltown Malbay, you can chuck yer Galway Bay,
You'll never see the sun go down on Delhi or Bombay,
I found a place in India, so far across the foam,
You can call me Punjab Paddy, boys, I'm never comin' home.

From Bohola to Benares, Inchigeela to Lahore
Kamakura, Siliguri, Peshawar, Sahrunapore
Amritsar to Sanawar, Simla, and Pinjore
I got trolleyed on Dewali, and I'm going back for more!
Someday I'll be a holy man with saffron on me nose,
I'll shave my head like Gandhi and I'll never wear no clothes,
To see the Irish Guru, they'll come from near and far,
Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Whiskey in the Jar!

Chorus:
You can keep your Michael Flatley with his tattoos on his chest,
Fare thee well, Sweet Anna Liffey, it's the Ganges I love best,
I found a place in India so far across the foam,
You can call me Punjab Paddy, boys, I'm never comin' home,
I'm never comin' home!
I'm never comin' home!

. . .

Stain the Grout

[No lyrics]

. . .


These tired ghosts that haunt my nights,
Mistakes of my own making,
When I depart at day's first light,
It's them I won't be taking,
If I'm to leave this place I love,
I'll harbor no regret,
I cannot wait to see her smile,
I cannot wait, and yet....

I grieve to leave, I grieve to leave this native land,
Across the sea, she waits for me to take her hand,
My every breath, my every bone,
Have drawn what strength they have from home.
But love is stronger I suppose,
And there's the tear upon the rose.

I've held my shoulder to the plow,
I've worked these fields for so long,
This earth has left its dirt on me,
And made my hands so strong,
It hurts to lay these reins aside,
My heart, and heaven, knows,
This rocky soil I've cursed and nursed,
Is no place to grow a rose.

I grieve to leave, I grieve to leave this native land,
Across the sea, she waits for me to take her hand,
My every breath, my every bone,
Have drawn what strength they have from home.
But love is stronger I suppose,
And there's the tear upon the rose.
I understand the risk I run,
I love, and I may lose,
But I have seen there, in her eyes,
A Rose I can't refuse.

I grieve to leave, I grieve to leave this native land,
Across the sea, she waits for me to take her hand,
My every breath, my every bone,
Have drawn what strength they have from home.
But love is stronger I suppose,
And there's the tear upon the rose.

. . .


Chorus:
Summer's gone. It's winter's fault my summer went away,
Summer's gone, summer's gone and winter she's to blame.

Make up your mind,
Every year, you come 'round here.
Please shine your light on me,
I'm paper thin, you can look right in and see that I'm in love with you.

Chorus

Nights are getting long,
Swallows have gone, following the sun
There's a chill in the air
Dog days are off the leash, chasing snowballs on the beach
I remember lying hand in hand,
Sand got everywhere, ohhh, but I didn't care,
Got my factor thirty on,
We had safe sun but I got burnt,
Man that really hurt.

Chorus

I've got my beanie on,
I'm hot, I'm cold... This is getting old,
So I went to see the weather man,
He said "warm spells on the way."
This time I think it's here to stay!

. . .


La, La La La, La, La la la
La, La La La, La, La la la
She's working as a waitress in Dublin,
Filling up the tourists with beer,
Stashing away a little cash every day,
For a ticket to ride out of here,
Every night she feels a little bit older,
Every day a little wetter and colder,
No more rain for this Irish Rose,
She's gonna go (She's gonna go!) where the palm trees grow.

She wants a Piña Colada in a pint glass...
She wants to be where the summer won't stop,
She wants gin clear water and milk white sand,
A sunburned nose and a drink in her hand
With a pink umbrella on top!

She's standing in line at the chipper,
Waiting for her curry and peas,
But dying for some of that papaya and rum,
And the kiss of a coconut breeze,
Every night she feels a little bit older,
Every day's a little wetter and colder,
She's bought a thong bikini and a big straw hat
She's gonna go and she's not coming back!

She wants a Piña Colada in a pint glass...
She wants to be where the summer won't stop,
She wants gin clear water and milk white sand,
A sunburned nose and a drink in her hand
With a pink umbrella on top!

Every night she feels a little bit older,
Every day's a little wetter and colder,
She's cleaning up the tables on Sunday,
But she's dreaming of the tropical night,
Another five or ten in her pocket and then,
She'll be closer to the price of a flight!
Every night she feels a little bit older,
Every day's a little wetter and colder,
She plays Beach Boys records and she dances alone,
And before (before) before she goes home...

She wants a Piña Colada in a pint glass...
She wants to be where the summer won't stop,
She wants gin clear water and milk white sand,
A sunburned nose and a drink in her hand
With a pink umbrella on top!

She wants a Piña Colada in a pint glass...
She wants to be where the summer won't stop,
She wants gin clear water and milk white sand,
A sunburned nose and a drink in her hand
With a pink umbrella on top!

. . .


I keep it goin' day by day,
Drink my coffee, smile and say,
"Doin' fine... how's it treatin' you?"
My smile comes from a movie scene,
Words from Sunday's magazine,
Who I am, I only wish I knew.

I wanna fish and get fat, I'm done with all of that!
I wanna fish and get fat... I ain't comin' back!
I'm movin' backward stride by stride, I'm sliced I'm diced, I'm crispy fried.
City's closin' in on me,
The windows to my soul are sad reflections of a billboard ad:
Buy one now and get another free!

I wanna fish and get fat, I'm done with all of that!
I wanna fish and get fat... I ain't comin' back!
I'm movin' backward stride by stride, I'm sliced I'm diced, I'm crispy fried.
City's closin' in on me,
The windows to my soul are sad reflections of a billboard ad:
Buy one now and get another free!

I'm genuine synthetic fake, lock me up and let me bake,
Turn me over now, I think I'm done,
Sprinkle me with MSG, a word or two of sympathy,
Slap me 'round and throw me in a bun!
I keep it goin' day by day,
Drink my coffee, smile and say,
"Doin' fine... how's it treatin' you?"
My smile comes from a movie scene,
Words from Sunday's magazine,
Who I am, I only wish I knew.

I wanna fish and get fat, I'm done with all of that!
I wanna fish and get fat... I ain't comin' back!
I'm movin' backward stride by stride, I'm sliced I'm diced, I'm crispy fried.
City's closin' in on me,
The windows to my soul are sad reflections of a billboard ad:
Buy one now and get another free!

I wanna fish and get fat, I'm done with all of that!
I wanna fish and get fat... I ain't comin' back!
I'm movin' backward stride by stride, I'm sliced I'm diced, I'm crispy fried.
City's closin' in on me,
The windows to my soul are sad reflections of a billboard ad:
Buy one now and get another free!

I'm genuine synthetic fake, lock me up and let me bake,
Turn me over now, I think I'm done,
Sprinkle me with MSG, a word or two of sympathy,
Slap me 'round and throw me in a bun!

I wanna fish and get fat, I'm done with all of that!
I wanna fish and get fat... I ain't comin' back!
I'm movin' backward stride by stride, I'm sliced I'm diced, I'm crispy fried.
City's closin' in on me,
The windows to my soul are sad reflections of a billboard ad:
Buy one now and get another free!

River river, wash me clean, carry me away.
River river, wash me clean, carry me away.
River river, wash me clean, carry me away.
River river, wash me clean... 'cause I can't stand another lousy day!
I move my mouth, the words come out,
First a whisper, then a shout,
No one hears a thing I have to say,
The sell-by date stamped on my neck is out of date, but what the heck
No one's buying anything today!

I wanna fish and get fat, I'm done with all of that!
I wanna fish and get fat... I ain't comin' back!
I'm movin' backward stride by stride, I'm sliced I'm diced, I'm crispy fried.
City's closin' in on me,
The windows to my soul are sad reflections of a billboard ad:
Buy one now and get another free!

River river, wash me clean, carry me away.
River river, wash me clean, carry me away.
River river, wash me clean, carry me away.
River river, wash me clean... 'cause I can't stand another lousy day!
I move my mouth, the words come out,
First a whisper, then a shout,
No one hears a thing I have to say,
The sell-by date stamped on my neck is out of date, but what the heck
No one's buying anything today!

I wanna fish and get fat, I'm done with all of that!
I wanna fish and get fat... I ain't comin' back!
I'm movin' backward stride by stride, I'm sliced I'm diced, I'm crispy fried.
City's closin' in on me,
The windows to my soul are sad reflections of a billboard ad:
Buy one now and get another free!

I wanna fish and get fat, I'm done with all of that!
I wanna fish and get fat... I ain't comin' back!
I'm movin' backward stride by stride, I'm sliced I'm diced, I'm crispy fried.
City's closin' in on me,
The windows to my soul are sad reflections of a billboard ad:
Buy one now and get another free!

I wanna fish and get fat, I'm done with all of that!
I wanna fish and get fat... I ain't comin' back!
I'm movin' backward stride by stride, I'm sliced I'm diced, I'm crispy fried.
City's closin' in on me,
The windows to my soul are sad reflections of a billboard ad:
Buy one now and get another free!

I wanna fish and get fat, I'm done with all of that!
I wanna fish and get fat... I ain't comin' back!
I'm movin' backward stride by stride, I'm sliced I'm diced, I'm crispy fried.
City's closin' in on me,
The windows to my soul are sad reflections of a billboard ad:
Buy one now and get another free!

. . .

The Lone-Star Stowaway

[No lyrics]

. . .


There's a house on a hill,
A great big spankin' beautiful house,
With a view to kill,
Out the back, there's a pool,
A turquoise liquid paradise, man that water's cool!
But do I live there? Do I live there? Do I live there? No, you do!

But when I win, you're gonna have to let me in!
And I'm bringin' all my friends, we're gonna have some fun,
When I win, you're gonna have to let me in,
We're singin' and dancin', We're stayin' until we see the sun!

A brand new car goes flyin' past,
One sexy set of wheels, that Maserati's fast!
The touch of steel, the smell of leather,
Hear the turbo squeal, squeal and whine with pleasure,
Do I drive that machine? Am I behind that wheel? Am I in that car? No, you are!

But when I win, you're gonna have to let me in!
And I'm throwin' out your Kenny G, I'm blastin' Eminem!
When I win, you're gonna have to let me in,
I'm crankin' up the stereo, I'm never slowin' down ever again!

A trendy club, so exclusive,
Prada and Gucci, models so elusive,
Red velvet rope security,
They're letting all the rich folk in,
Everyone but me,
But do I care? Do I care? Do I care? Yes I do!!!!

But when I win! They're gonna have to let me in!
And I'm wearin' what I want, I won't be dressed in black...
When I win, they're gonna have to let me in!
In my t-shirt, jeans, and yellow wellies, that'll be some mighty craic!

Now there's a boat, no it's a yacht,
Got a helicopter pad, it's huge, it's worth ... a lot!
Pretty girls, in bikinis,
Suckin' down beluga caviar, sippin' on martinis.
It's not me, no it's not me, it's not me... But it sure as hell will be!

'Cause when I win, they're gonna have to let me in!
I'm bringin' Guinness by the case, we're gonna have some fun,
When I win, they're gonna have to let me in,
We're drinkin' whiskey from the bottle and we're stayin!
We're drinkin' whiskey from the bottle and we're stayin, we're stayin
We're stayin' until we see the sun.

. . .


Nach doiligh domhsa mo chailin a mholadh
‘S ni he amhain mar bhi si rua
Bhi si mar gath greine a dhul in eadan na gloinne
is bhi sceimh mhna na finne le mo caillin rua

Thug me liom i o bhaile go baile
Thug me liom i o bhaile go baile
Thug me liom i o bhaile go baile
Chuir me an deoch ar mo caillin deas rua!

B'fhearr liom i na bo is na serrach,
A bhfuil da loinghis a' tarraingt chun cuain,
B'fhearr liom aris na cios cluain maidne
Go mbeinn is mo chaillin in mBaile an Luain.

Thug me liom i o bhaile go baile
Thug me liom i o bhaile go baile
Thug me liom i o bhaile go baile
Chuir me an deoch ar mo caillin deas rua!

Chuir me mo chailin go margadh Shligidh,
B'e sin fein an margadh bhi daor,
Bhi scilling agus punt ar a pheice mine
No go dtug mise na fuinneadh do mo chailin rua

Thug me liom i o bhaile go baile
Thug me liom i o bhaile go baile
Thug me liom i o bhaile go baile
Chuir me an deoch ar mo caillin deas rua!

Chuaigh si siar le broga breach'uirthi
Ribini glasuaine teannta ‘ar a gruaig,
D'ealaigh si uaimse le buachaill an tsiopa,
‘S a Ri, nar dheas i mo chailin rua!

. . .


Say goodbye to the morning light,
Got my Jaffas and my flask of tea,
Sucking death with every breath,
Tryin' to feed my family,
No sanctuary for this yellow canary
Stuck in a black iron cage,
I'm blind as a mole in this bottomless hole,
I'm diggin' my own grave.

Chorus:
I'm goin' down, underground,
Down, underground.
Down, underground,
Down, down, down...

They say, walk away, and you'll get better pay,
I don't know what I should do,
Should I cross the line, like some friends of mine,
They were hungry too,
Those union joes in their spotless clothes,
Don't mean nothin' to me,
I"m sick and tired of stokin' the fires,
For them or this company.

Chorus

When the siren sounds,
And the sun goes down,
I finally get to wash my face,
The wheels don't stop,
They spin 'round the clock,
They send my son down to take my place,

Chorus:

(He's) goin' down, underground,
Down underground,
Down underground,
Down down down

. . .

Cab Ride To Kingston

[No lyrics]

. . .


Chorus:
T...i...m...e, Drink 'em up!
Haven't you got no homes to go to,
Don't care where you go,
You can't be stayin' here
T...i...m...e, Drink 'em up!
The lights are on, the towels are up,
You best be on your way.

Now Billy's in the corner, he's been there all night long,
Story after story, song after song,
Tomorrow marks the day that he lost his dear ol' Da,
So tonight he's with his mates gettin' therapy at the bar.

Chorus

The football team is drinkin'. They lost another game,
O'Malley he is drinkin' cause his greyhound won again,
Barry he is drinkin,' his divorce came through today,
And the rest of us are drinkin' 'cause it's just another day...

The world keeps getting bigger, It makes you feel so small,
The CEOs you've never met are the one's who run it all,
You spend your whole life workin' they still forget your name,
Yeah the world keeps on changin' but the pub... remains... the same!

Chorus

I was born inside a pub if the tale's to be believed,
But I think it's much more likely that it's there I was conceived
And when it's time to die I hope the pub is where I'm found,
And I hope I go before I have to buy another round!

Chorus

. . .


I'd say I'm in a pickle,
Me cash flow doesn't trickle
There's nothing in me pocket except lint,
There's no bread for me butter,
Me best friend is the gutter,
Do you get the bloody picture, boys I'm skint!

Chorus:
I'm short a couple a bob,
Since I started on the grog,
I've seen better days for sure,
I'm short a couple a bob,
Me head is all a throb,
I've seen better days for sure!

I spend me mornings clipping coupons,
Since I got me scoop on,
The church mouse is a rich man and I'm not
But I ain't a down and out, see,
The train just left without me,
I don't own a smidgeon or a jot!

Chorus:
I'm short a couple a bob,
Since I lost me job,
I've seen better days for sure,
I'm short a couple a bob,
I've run out of stuff to flog,
I've seen better days for sure!

The pot that I would piss in,
Is temporarily missin'
I'm not a pauper, I'm just poor,
I'm really not that miserable,
Though me lack of funds is considerable,
The wolf is selling crackers at the door!

Chorus:
I'm short a couple a bob,
I eat me chips without the cod,
I've seen better days for sure,
I'm short a couple a bob,
There's no corn on me cob,
I've seen better days for sure!

Well that silver spoon of mine,
Got stuck where the sun don't shine,
Good fortune ran away and doesn't call,
I've really fallen on hard times,
‘cause I've just run out of rhymes,
So I better finish quickly while I can… still…. finish.

Chorus:
I'm short a couple a bob
There's no bricks in me hod,
I've seen better days for sure,
I'm short a couple a bob,
I'm not the man you want to rob
I've seen better days for sure,
I've seen better days for sure…

. . .


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