THE BALLADMAKER'S APPRENTICE
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Beneath a ballad-maker's moon
Singing me her sweetest tunes
She whispered, "take them all on loan
And make them all your own".
...I made them all my own.

The melody, the live-long theme,
The everyday note in the dream,
An underlying overtone,
I made them all my own.

The silver tongues, the hearts of gold,
The new directions in the old,
The lips that kissed the Blarney-Stone,
...I made them all my own.

The dead king Coal, unspinning wheels,
Women of iron, brass and steel,
Who worked their fingers to the bone,
...I made them all my own.

You Mathers and your Planxty man,
Battalions of the also-ran,
The goddess that was Greasy Joan,
...I made them all my own.

Mid-winter whitening Windy Ridge,
The deep end under Cinder Bridge,
Where unrequited lovers groan,
...I made them all my own.

The sacrifices worth the price,
The poet's earthly paradise,
Whose unimagined words have flown,
...I made them all my own.

The mirror weeping all alone,
The voices on the answerphone,
Everywhichway the wind has blown,
...I made them all my own.

Apprenticed to the ballad trade,
Seeking no greater accolade,
I leave you these few things on loan,
I made them all my own...
...now make them all your own.

Beneath some ballad-maker's moon,
You make them all your own.

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The song is on Ray's Broad Street Ballads (No Masters NMCD17). Well worth a listen!