The Moon On Clancy’s Wings

ast night I tried to sing an Irish love song
But it wasn’t really coming from the heart
‘Till my memory took me back again
To a small bar in New Orleans
Where an old man played the violin
And I sang and played guitar
I was just a country boy
The old man’s name was Clancy
Clancy light a fire in me
He make me sing and dance.
I was young and he had hairs of silver
We charmed the hard earned leather of there shoes
And the toil worn men from here to Oklahoma
Would sit and ache with longing
As we sang the songs of Erin
Of warrior priest, and minstrel kings,
Of hearts and harps and heroes
Clancy’s dancing fingers
Wrapped them in a spell

When Clancy played the violin
he set my heart to music
the words fell over like tears
And heaven whispered in the strings
At night when the bars are closing
and the drunks begin to sing
It’s not the Milky Way they see
it’s the moon on Clancy’s wings

One warm September morning
Clancy took me by the hand
He bowed his head and whispered
Lad I’m going home
The old bow arm is cramping up
The fingers slowing down
I can’t take another winter on the road
Three years on a letter came
post-marked Donegal
It had followed me around the world
and found me in St. Paul
A closely written careful hand said
Clancy played his final tune
He must have loved him dearly
To have taken him so soon

When Clancy played the violin
he set my heart to music
the words fell over like tears
And heaven whispered in the strings
At night when the bars are closing
and the drunks begin to sing
It’s not the Milky Way they see
it’s the moon on Clancy’s wings

Each night when the bar is closing
This drunk begins to sing
It’s not the Milky Way I see
It’s the moon on Clancy’s wings

– Jimmy Stewart/Dough Ashdown