a wistful folk ballad of lost love
flute
folk
ballad
wistful
Story behind the song
The hills of Antrim and Donegal are covered is golden Whin (gorse) and white May (hawthorn) in late spring/early summer
Lyrics
AA 03 The May and the Whin 6/8 160bpm
AmAmGGFFE7E7
AmAmGGFFE7E7
DmDmGGCCGG
AmAmGGFFBB
The gold of the whin as it clings to the rock
The white may all cascading down
She looking fine in her Sunday best frock
The sun turning skin red and brown
Late in the spring is the finest of times
With the sap now well on the rise
You got her attention with idiot rhymes
Whilst your heart was bewitched by her eyes
CCBB CCBB
CCBB AmAmDD
If she asks you now what would you say
To go back to the whin and the may
To the place where it all did begin
Return to the may and the whin
Time brings the changes, time writes the plot
Reasons meander away
Time holds the threads to the things you've forgot
All you were unable to say
Things put together we're broken apart
Feelings pushed back out of sight.
Could have been should have been crushed from the start
Fight was the loser to flight
Can you recapture a feeling long past
Can you regain all you lost
Nailing your colours now onto the mast
Willing to not count the cost
Never too late to make good what went bad
Time for righting a wrong
Time to discover what you never had
Time to give voice to your song
?