Our Family Banshee
Lyrics and Music: Maureen S. O'Brien, 6/28/01

Come all ye bold young settlers and listen to my tale.
You've heard how when the Irish die, you can hear the banshee wail.
My father died hit by a car, and when he passed from life, 
My mother, I, and my brothers heard her wail sharp as a knife.

It was a few years later when they chose me for this trip.
My mother, she was sad, but I thought only of starships.
My farewell party was a wake; she mourned me like the dead.
But Irish wakes are merry, and my new world lay ahead.

Then she said:
CH: "Far away, and far away, too far away," said she, 
    "And when I die, you'll hear no cry from our faraway banshee."
    "Far away, and far away, too far away," said she, 
    "And when I die, you'll hear no cry from our faraway banshee."

So when I came to this new world, I found much work in store, 
But then at night I cursed the day I'd left the Earth's green shore.
For all around young families were making a new home,
But I had no fam'ly by my side, so I felt all alone.

The Earth sent us news seldom, sent letters fewer still.
But I knew my mother had grown old, and deaths come as they will.
Then one night our biologist said, shrugging helplessly,
"I thought wildlife here made no sound, but something howls like...a banshee."

(OR: And it sounded like this: [keen])

CH: "Far away, and far away, too far away," said she, 
    "And when I die, you'll hear no cry from our faraway banshee."
    (repeat)

I said to our biologist, "Show me where you heard the sound."
And we found ourselves a vehicle and he drove me far from town.
And it's then we heard that banshee wail, saw a figure waiting stand --
And it was our greyhaired banshee with her comb all in her hand.

I got out of the vehicle, and I said, "Who do you mourn?
Is it my brothers, or myself, or the mother from whom we were born?"
And she said, "It's not your brothers three, nor for yourself I mourn, 
But it's for your old mother dear who died on Earth this morn."

And she said:
CH2: "Far away, and far away's not far away for me.
     When fam'ly dies, you'll hear the cries of your family's banshee."
     "Far away, and far away's not far away for me.
     When fam'ly dies, you'll hear the cries of your family's banshee."

That night I lit a candle in the shed where people pray, 
All for my poor old mother laid in the churchyard far away.
And then I lit a candle each for my grieving brothers three,
And then I lit another for our family's banshee.

So come all ye bold young settlers, and listen to my tale, 
For it's true that when the Irish die, you can hear the banshee wail.