{"id":1387,"date":"2008-03-17T12:00:00","date_gmt":"2008-03-17T11:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/beerbellyband.com\/campfire-in-the-dark"},"modified":"2008-03-17T12:00:00","modified_gmt":"2008-03-17T11:00:00","slug":"campfire-in-the-dark","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/beerbellyband.com\/en\/campfire-in-the-dark\/","title":{"rendered":"CAMPFIRE IN THE DARK"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><em>Irish traditional song lyrics \u2014 collected by Beer Belly Band.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>Me father rises early and he makes his cup of tay<br \/>\nHe lights the kitchen stove and then he calls me<br \/>\nHis days are often empty he&#8217;s nothing much to do<br \/>\nSo he sits and tells me stories of the traveling life he knew<\/p>\n<p>In the evening they will meet in lonely country lanes<br \/>\nA field away he&#8217;d hear a collie bark<br \/>\nAnd they&#8217;d pass the time away with talk about the days<br \/>\nStanding round the campfire in the dark<br \/>\nStanding round the campfire in the dark<\/p>\n<p>Me mother likes the house the hot water and the rooms<br \/>\nIt&#8217;s warm in the winter and she&#8217;s handy with the broom<br \/>\nSometimes she makes colcannon more often brittle bread<br \/>\nThere&#8217;s a hunger deep inside her for her traveling life that&#8217;s dead<\/p>\n<p>In the evening she would lift the black pot from the coals<br \/>\nA bitter way she always would remark<br \/>\nThere&#8217;d be vessels left to clean, while children could be seen<br \/>\nPlaying round the campfire in the dark<br \/>\nPlaying round the campfire in the dark<\/p>\n<p>We go down to the pool halls to chat up the town whores<br \/>\nSometimes at the discos we can&#8217;t get pass the doors<br \/>\nWe&#8217;re still tinkers to them and it&#8217;s thrown at our ears<br \/>\nWe&#8217;re still the awful strangers after all these years<\/p>\n<p>And I think about my own life and the way it would be<br \/>\nAn Escort van, a bit of dealing, a wife and a family<br \/>\nNow Thursday I collect the dole, Friday pitch and toss<br \/>\nWhere on the sight I think about the traveler&#8217;s ways we lost<\/p>\n<p>And I wish that I would rise and wash the sleep out of my eyes<br \/>\nAnd listen to the sweet song of the lark<br \/>\nAnd I wish that could be in the camp company<br \/>\nWith the sound of horses moving in the dark<br \/>\nWith the sound of horses moving in the dark<br \/>\nWith the sound of horses moving in the dark<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Me father rises early and he makes his cup of tay He lights the kitchen stove and then he calls me His days are often empty he&#8217;s nothing much to do So he s<\/p>","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_uag_custom_page_level_css":"","site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center 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