An apology to Christie Moore

There is a little bit of intelligence this week - although, when dealing with officialdom, "intelligence" may not be the best choice of words. I have had a letter from my appeal solicitor informing me that my file will be passed to the decision-making team at the CCRC in the next couple of weeks, which sounds great at first glance. Ah! But then I am informed that after that the case will need to go before a panel for a decision and that could take some time, a couple of months in fact. For all I know it will also have to go before the office tea lady and the cat!

I am being unkind and, after all of these years ,I shouldn't quibble over a few more weeks. After all, I am getting younger by the day and fully expect to live forever.

So, that's the position with the CCRC - watch this space.

The other day I had a letter from Lesley. (We all know Lesley, her of the blonde hair, bad temper, lack of patience and the sense of humour of a burning orphanage - THAT Lesley.) She wrote and said she had seen something I wrote a couple of weeks ago, a response to Mr Anonymous, (author of the political tirade in reaction to something I had said). Lesley had seen my response and the verses that I had included under the title 'An Ordinary Man' and she (Lesley) thought I may have written it. I didn't. It is by a fellow called Christie Moore, an Irish singer. In fact I thought I had attributed it, I normally do, so I must have let that one slip past without attribution.

To make up for that, and by way of an apology to Christie Moore, I am going to include another here, and this one is called:

LAWLESS

He was Lawless by name and lawless by nature,
Trouble, right from the start.
Hard as nails, running wild through the streets,
He was breaking his poor mother's heart.
Nature played a trick on Lawless
And the humour of Nature is cruel.
He grew up as we all had expected
Into a dangerous fool.

He was a hard man, a man for all seasons,
Always out for a fight.
He couldn't hold drink but still he'd get plastered
In Clarke's, every Saturday night.
He'd strip to his vest and challenge the best
Until the Gards they were called to come fast.
Then they'd lock him away for the rest of the day
And let him out on a Sunday for Mass.

One night he went down to the Ringsend Regatta
Where he met up with the bould Dolly Glass.
She wasn't exactly what you'd call beauty
But she was the belle of her class.
A whirlwind romance and Dolly took a flier
With Lawless, she would settle down.
It was pure coincidence, three month before,
There was a Yankee destroyer in town.

And the couple were blessed with one of God's miracles
Before six months had elapsed.
Dolly gave birth to a nine pound black baby
And Lawless was fit to collapse.
She swore She'd NEVER been touched by another
And Lawless took her at her word.
And the neighbours exclaimed, "He's the SPIT of his father!"
And the cuckoo's a wonderful bird.

Now Lawless stays in to look after the family
While Dolly goes out for the night.
The ould gossips all say, "She's free in her ways!"
And their evil rumours run rife.
When Lawless heard this, he waited for Dolly
On the bridge where the river runs low.
No one will ever know what happened next
But Dolly drowned in the water below.

Some say he's crazy, most say he's evil,
Everyone says that he's mad.
No one will defend him because he was no angel
But I'll tell you, he wasn't ALL bad.
They locked him away for the rest of his natural,
Never again will he see -
That at the back of Ringsend there's a lonely child playing
Where the Liffey runs into the sea.

The Voice In The Wilderness