Episode 5 Transatlantic Sessions

My father is a singer and an accordion player.

My grandfather was an accordion player.

My uncle is an accordion player. That's why I picked guitar.

# In this fading light the mainland

# Lies vague out on the horizon

# A lighthouse beaming its welcome

# To Gross Isle and liberty's sweet shore

# We sail on the fifth day of September

# 200 poor souls crammed together

# From our families and homelands

# We're severed

# The clothes on our backs all we own

# Sailing to liberty's sweet shore

# Sailing to liberty's sweet shore

# We left all we know

# To this new life we'll go

# Sailing to liberty's sweet shore

# Two pounds a head for the passage

# With ease our landlord surrendered

# And wiped his hands clean as he tendered

# From a distance

# Well, he watched us all go

# Three months and a day we've been sailing

# Round pinnacles of ice we've been steering

# Squalls and nor'easters a-raging

# To deliver us to liberty's sweet shore

# Sailing to liberty's sweet shore

# Sailing to liberty's sweet shore

# We left all we know

# To this new life we'll go

# Sailing to liberty's sweet shore

# We're bowed down in sickness and in hunger

# And we pray for the hand of the maker

# But my child was lost to a fever

# A quick prayer then hauled overboard

# Oceans of tears they are falling

# In hope and despair both recalling

# Now the gulls of St Lawrence they are calling

# Soon Quebec and liberty's sweet shore

# Sailing to liberty's sweet shore

# Sailing to liberty's sweet shore

# We left all we know

# To this new life we'll go

# Sailing to liberty's sweet shore

# Sailing to liberty's sweet shore. #

# Day is breaking

# In my soul. #

GUITARS STRUM

LAUGHTER

# Bright morning stars are rising

# Bright morning stars are rising

# Bright morning stars are rising

# Day is breaking

# In my soul

# Oh, where are our dear mothers?

# Oh, where are our dear mothers?

# Oh, where are our dear mothers?

# Day is breaking

# In my soul

# They have gone to heaven shouting

# They have gone to heaven shouting

# They have gone to heaven shouting

# Day is breaking

# In my soul

# Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

# Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

# Oh, where are our dear fathers?

# Oh, where are our dear fathers?

# Oh, where are our dear fathers?

# Day is breaking

# In my soul

# They are down the valley praying

# They are down the valley praying

# They are down the valley praying

# Day is breaking

# In my soul

# Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

# Bright morning stars are rising

# Bright morning stars are rising

# Bright morning stars are rising

# Day is breaking

# In my soul. #

MUSIC PLAYS

I've been here for a week and probably done five songs a day,

five tunes a day.

To be honest, I can't remember what we did on the first day!

It's a real joy to play my own songs,

and kind of hear them unfold, and hear them, you know,

being layered up with all these other great musicians

and great instruments and things, so the whole thing's really nice.

# On a still night under darkness men fastened their boots

# Their headtorches flickered, their tobacco smoke rose

# With the cogs and wheels whirring they were lowered below

# As they whistled the Esperanza

# In the hot dusty air, their picks and drills flew

# With the passing of hours the specks of gold grew

# Till a deafening roar shook the hill with a blow

# And snuffed out their Esperanza

# As the dust fell and settled, the silence gave way

# To the miners who lay there untouched and unscathed

# But where the rubble had fallen it blocked their retreat

# Their hopes were now with San Lorenzo

# Up above shrill alarm bells greeted the dawn

# From their posts men scattered their radios drawn

# From the mine the news travelled to the families at home

# To the nation and echoed beyond

# Before long the rescue was planned and in place

# There were drillers from Texas brought to join the race

# But with 600 metres of solid rock in their way

# Their faces were grim but determined

# From the length of the country and the hills they soon came

# On the sands families gathered to wait and pray for their men

# They pitched up their tents there in the hot stinging sun

# And they named it Camp Esperanza

# For the nine weeks that they waited nerves and tempers were frayed

# But a school for the children and shrines for the miners were made

# There were feuds, there was marriage and a baby was born

# All under Camp Esperanza

# The men crouched below in the heat and the dark

# Surviving on rations lowered down the mine shaft

# They appointed a doctor and a cook from their ranks

# And swore that they'd struggle through together

# After six days of drilling, they finally struck through

# To the cavern where the miners' joy greeted the view

# The tunnel was carved and the line was cast down

# To where the dust and the tears now ran together

# The weak were the first on the journey above

# Entombed and twisting from the pull and the shove

# They rose from the earth on a woven line of steel

# To the strains of the band's Esperanza

# One by one, each miner emerged into the sun

# To the 33 families who stood to welcome their men

# Amidst the sand and the rubble, the crowds gathered and cheered

# And sang for their newly knighted heroes

# A mother held her son in a careful embrace

# A young girl looked on, the warm sun framing her face

# As he lifted her up she whispered, "Daddy, promise me

# "Your days underground are done"

# On the San Jose mine the sun shone, the wind blew

# In the way that it had since 1892

# Still in danger men toil, traded for gold

# Still the harsh winds there scatter the topsoil

# On a still night under darkness, men fastened their boots

# Their headtorches flickered, their tobacco smoke rose

# With the cogs and wheels whirring they were lowered below

# As they whistled the Esperanza

# As they whistled the Esperanza. #

# He gradh, ho gradh

# 'S e mo gradh 's an t-agh donn

# Nuair a theid thu na bhathaich

# 'S e mo gradh 's an t-agh donn

# Nuair a theid thu na bhathaich

# 'S e mo gradh-s' an t-agh donn

# 'S e do chuman bhiodh lan

# 'S e mo gradh-s' an t-agh donn

# 'S e mo ghaol-sa, an t-aghan ciallach

# Cha do thog e chas a-riamh rium

# Thug e bainne chruidh san t-sliabh dhomh

# Bainne geala bhon na h-aighean ciallach

# He hoileagan hi ho m' aighean

# He hoileagan hi ho m' aighean

# M' aighean hoileagan, hi ho m' aighean

# Mo chrodh-laoigh gach taobh na bhuaile

# 'S e mo ghaol-sa an t-aghan caiteach

# Thig a bhuarach air a chasan

# Cha bhuarach chruidh na chapuill

# Ach buarach shioda thig a Sasainn

# He hoileagan hi ho m' aighean

# He hoileagan hi ho m' aighean

# M' aighean hoileagan, hi ho m' aighean

# Mo chrodh-laoigh gach taobh na bhuaile

# 'S e mo ghaol-sa an t-aghan caiteach

# Cha do thog e chas a-riamh rium

# Thug e bainne chruidh san t-sliabh dhomh

# Bainne geala bhon na h-aighean ciallach

# He hoileagan hi ho m' aighean

# He hoileagan hi ho m' aighean

# M' aighean hoileagan, hi ho m' aighean

# Mo chrodh-laoigh gach taobh na bhuaile

# He hoileagan hi ho m' aighean

# He hoileagan hi ho m' aighean

# M' aighean hoileagan, hi ho m' aighean

# Mo chrodh-laoigh gach taobh na bhuaile. #

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd