The Makem & Spain Brothers: The Tradition Continues
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The sun comes over the top of the hill
Shines on the fields I've got to till
My bones are weary, but I know I will
And not just because you ask it
Rake and hoe are hung on nails
Hay piled up in tidy bales
Milk lies sweet in a hundred pails
And apples in the basket

Rite-fol-de-diddle-o, rite-fol-de-day
Rite-fol-de-diddle-o, rite-fol-de-day
Rite-fol-de-diddle-o, rite-fol-de-day
There's apples in the basket

A house that's tight to the wind and snow
A barn that's full of what we grow
Empty purse, but I don't owe
A thing to any man living
A woman warm, a woman kind
A woman that knows her own sweet mind
A woman that knows just what's behind
The sins that she's forgiven


There's branches on the family tree
A boy, a girl and the baby's three
They look like her, they look like me
Like folks that's dead and gone now
But I don't care, we're all the same
None to bless and none to blame
Doing in our Father's name
The work we carry on now


The old white goose is on the wing
But he'll come back again in spring
Each year we do the same old thing
And the same old wheel goes spinning
When the air is warm and the earth is sweet
And the Lord's clean dirt is on our feet
The circle comes around complete
The end is the beginning



- Words by J.B. Goodenough
Music by Tommy Makem