The Daring Lassie

Those who have known me for a while will know that at the age of fourteen I ran away from a care home in Somerset, hitchhiked to Ireland, took on a new name, and lived rough on the streets of Dublin and Galway for months on end. I’ve written many songs surrounding that story but this is the first song I’ve written about the journey. The Tickled Trout on the River Ribble is on the A59.

I’ll call you out from the Tickled Trout down by the River Ribble to drink our fill in The Old Black Bull and I’ll take with me my fiddle. I’ll ask you child for I long to beguile the grief that calls for pity. You’ve come thus far by lorry, by car, will you come now to Dublin city? Come daring lassie, oh my lovely, young daring lassie come with me.

On English land we will leave your name and call you my daughter’s own. Take heart young girl, stand tall and brave, for you’ll not turn back home. We’ll take the ferry from the docks in Wales sail on the Irish sea. We’ll make merry and we’ll tell our tales and dance in the ocean breeze.

We’ll take a rickshaw to Stephen’s Green, walk by young Molly Malone. We’ll take the heather all tied with string from the hand of the travelling girl. I’ll leave you there in Grafton fair so soon to be all forlorn for the thieving mare she will leave you bare, bare as the day you were born!

Your fortune’s told that brave and bold you’ll stand on your two bare feet, down by the road in the sodden cold where the tar and the hedgerows meet. As it all began a fine young man will sweep you from your toes, and pray dear child that you’ll take his hand and follow him where he goes.

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