St. Patrick's Day Giveaway

According to family legend, my great-great grandfather, George Convy, brought a piece of sod from the homeland when he emigrated from Ireland in 1866. Now and then, when he was feeling particularly homesick, he would take it out and have a good cry.

The Irish, who fled their country by the thousands, did not have a word for "emigrate" -- instead, they used the word for "exile," which struck me as sad and poignant. In this song, The Turf o' Tullamore, I pay tribute to my Irish ancestors, who came from Tullamore, Ireland, to make a new life in St Louis, MO, -- and who occasionally grieved for their homeland.

In celebration of St. Patrick's Day, t

he song is available as a free download on our website, . Click here: Free Download Turf o' Tullamore

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

chorus:

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

chorus

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

chorus

Youtube Link Here

A Bit of Irish for St. Patrick's Day

According to family legend, my great-great grandfather George Convy brought a piece of sod from the homeland when he emigrated from Ireland in 1866. Now and again he would take it out and have a good cry.

The Irish, who fled their country by the thousands, did not have a word for "emigrate" -- instead, they used the word for "exile," which struck me as sad and poignant. In this song.The Turf o' Tullamore - I pay tribute to my Irish ancestors, who came from Tullamore, Ireland, to make a new life in St Louis, MO, -- and occasionally grieved for their homeland.





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

chorus:

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

chorus

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

chorus

Youtube Link Here

A Little Love from Ireland

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

chorus:

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

chorus

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

chorus