Dancing at The Crossroads

They came in silence and in revelry to dance beneath the moon,
To sing some songs and drink some pints and play some joyful tunes
In droves they came, some blind or lame, from country and from town,
And they met up at the crossroads just as the sun went down.

Ould Richie was the piper, he played a soulful air,
He’d empty a few jars and be flying in the chair.
He’d never seen the daylight, for he never had the sight,
But he’d jump up from his stool and be dancing all the night

The lads from Kilmacthomas, they brought down two large barn doors
And they nailed them both together and it made a mighty floor
Up jumped Johnny Berrill and he’s just fed the pigs,
But the sparks sure they were flying as he hopped some hearty jigs

The bonfires they were burning bright, and the spirits they were high,
When John Murphy turned around and got a fist into his eye.
He smashed a glass of poitín against Tom Reilly’s head
and did no more but drank a score and ‘goodnight’ was all he said

The lads below were joking, and the air was thick with tales
But the lasses knew the stories were but wind to fill the sails
They giggled and they listened but they kept one sharp eye peeled
For the man that took their fancy was the one could dance a reel.

The fires burning low now and the tunes were waning fast,
The musicians getting tired now, gave it a final blast,
The youths found quiet corners where they made their young romance
And oul’ Richie the blind piper finished up on his last dance

The waltzes they were over, and the fires were nearly out,
The glasses they were empty of the whiskey and the stout.
People packing up their dancing shoes and heading home too soon
Until next week’s crossroads dance does take place beneath the moon.