Old Boots and Flying Sandals

Lyrics and Music: Tim Dennehy
Guitar: Garry O'Briain
Fiddle: Patricia Kelly
Accordion: Josephine Marsh

This is a song that tries to capture the sounds and scents of young summers. Though it's structured as one day it's much more likely to have been an amalgam of golden moments. Each day began with an explosion of farmyard music and ended with the quiet dignity of the rosary. In between we dipped our toes in the summer mud and realised many fantasies while September was a lifetime away. The song was inspired by my childhood experiences in South Kerry and by the poetry of Patrick Kavanagh, particularly his beautiful poem, The Long Garden.

It's a mushroom-buttered sunrise cloaked in summer sounds
A '59 furze landscape etched in hope
Blackened kettle singing on his morning rounds
The early worms washed in dewed soap

Old boots are flying sandals in the morning mist
A golden garden leads to darkened room
A rusted cart hoards treasure beneath the ivy's kiss
The singing milk lilts a silken tune

It's midday and the classroom door tumbles open wide
New schoolbooks hasten bottled tea to bog
Nuzzling foal on mare, every bush a singing tide
That washes over sleepy outstretched dog

Old boots are flying sandals in the searing sun
A golden garden leads to darkened room
The swish of sharpened scythe ordains the corncrake's run
The turf-filled carts crunch a pebbled tune

The sun sets on our play, the spades are shouldered home
The thirsty hedge inhales the dew of night
Weary limbs coax warmth from the old hearth-stone
Brief darkness links a passing day to light

Old boots are flying sandals in the slanting time
A golden garden leads to darkened room
A trotting mouse through rafters skips a rosary rhyme
 The coupling cats wail a banshee-tune

Yes old boots are flying sandals in the slanting sun
A golden garden leads to darkened room
The Spirit breathes on clothesline, as owl-heads turn
The kindled fires embrace a new day's tune