Found this very sweet entry on our website guestbook - it refers to a song I wrote: "The Turf o' Tullamore."
"I was casually browsing youtube references to my hometown when I came across the Turf o' Tullamore. Just about every major town in Ireland has had a signature song except Tullamore - until now! It was worth waiting for - truly exceptional. Thanks guys. "
The Internet has given us the opportunity to casually reach all the way around the world -- from Shasta County back to where my mother's family came from more than a hundred years ago. Marvelous and mind-boggling.
This song tells a bit of the story of my great-great grandfather, George Convy, who brought a piece of the old country with him when he emigrated from Tullamore, Ireland, to St Louis, MO.
The Turf o' Tullamore
words and music © Erin Coombs Friedman
Into the West – land of the free
In freedom will I e’er a stranger be
So up the stairs I climb
Open up the trunk and find
The piece of home I carried ‘cross the sea
Weeping o’er The Turf o’ Tullamore
Exiles both – the Irish sod and I
The Turf o’ Tullamore
Will know my bones forevermore
Sweeten my grave when I
Lay down to die
For my sons, I made a pledge
They’ll not beg the Crown for daily bread
There’s days I understand
The promise in this promised land
And days I fill my glass with my regrets
When I take my final rest
Lay the Turf o’ Tullamore upon my breast
And it’s sweet - the dream I’ll dream
Home to Erin’s fields of green
By the Shannon’s holy waters, I’ll be blessed