THE MARCHING SONG
Colum Sands
From "Colum Sands: Between the Earth and the Sky"
Cottage Publications, Donaghadee, N. Ireland, 2000

Last night I awoke with the thought in my head
That instead of four seasons we have five instead
For somewhere inside of where summer should be
Is the season of marching for marching must be

Chorus:
And we're marching, marching, marching, marching again.

Now four of the seasons give forecasters pain,
Will it be sunshine or will it be rain,
Leinster say thunder and Connaught say blow
Munster say hailstones and Ulster say snow.

But each year the fifth season's easily forecast,
Don't look at the weather map look at the past,
Temperatures high and tolerance low,
If you've somewhere to go it's the right time to go.

Then I says to myself if marching must be,
Let's do the thing right so the whole world can see,
We'll build a big stadium centrally placed,
With a circular route where the marchers can pace.

To build such a place would throw lots off the dole,
Stones could be thrown in a meaningful role,
As builders and masons regardless of creed,
Build the big marching stadium we so badly need.

There's be seating for tourists to sit and to stare,
In our wonderful heritage they'd have a share,
And a fiver a seat isn't money in vain,
To travel three centuries down memory lane.

Riot facilities would be provided,
Dressing rooms could be hired mixed or divided,
And to really pull in massive crowds we could hope,
For annual concerts by Queen and the Pope.

Then marchers could march all the whole year around,
No longer the trouble of marching through towns,
Safe in the stadium the glorious past,
While the rest of us turn to the present at last.


Column is a delightful storyteller and singer-songwriter. I heard him in Derry last year.

Cheers, S. in Seattle