Passion = Truth? How Jeffrey James Francis Ircink Sees The World? I love when people are passionate about something. That surging of emotion is the one honest measure of what truth is. It's a truthful display of how a person really feels about something or someone at that particular moment. That passion IS truth.



About me...

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Greendale, Wisconsin, United States
Ex-producer of THE REALLY FUNNY HORNY GOAT INTERNATIONAL SHORT FILM FESTIVAL, playwright, actor, singer, outdoorsman, blogger, amateur photog, observer & bitcher, Beach Boys groupie, Brett Favre fanatic, lover of everything Celtic and forever a member in the Tribe of HAIR. Spent most of my life in the Village of Waterford, a small town just outside of the Milwaukee suburbs. After 12 years in North Hollywood, Bel Air and Culver City, Cali, I moved back to Wisconsin in September 2009. No regrets - of moving to LA OR moving back to WI. Have traveled to Belfast, Ireland, Dayton (OH), Manhattan, Seattle, Cedar Rapids, New York, Miami and Sydney, Australia with my plays. Moved back into the Village of Greendale where I was born. Life is good.

Celtic!

Friday, October 19, 2007

Origami No. 7 - "Del Rey's Lament"

Here's a blues song I wrote for my play, "Chromosome 21". Del Rey, a guitar player who sings for coins in the street, is the imaginary friend of Joshua Cinrick, who has Down Syndrome and is celebrating his 21st birthday. Joshua's father abandoned the family ten years ago and Del Rey is Joshua's way of coping with his father's leaving - Joshua "talks" to Del Rey and Del Rey serves as a sort of "mentor" toward Joshua, teaching him about playing the guitar and singing 'da Blues'. Sing a-long, if you'd like - just pick any blues melody and you're all set.

Can’t you hear the jingle jangle,
of my cup that’s filled with coins.
Can’t you hear the jingle jangle,
Like a lil’ kid with a brand, new toy.
There’s a lot a people passin' by,
Still my cup ain’t made no noise.

I’m just a tumbleweed, baby,
My venue is the lonely road.
I’m just a tumbleweed, a'tumblin',
Don’t own nothin' save my soul.
I’m a singer with no nightclub, baby,
Playin' the blues, that’s all I know.

I was born a poor, black child, (with no daddy)
outside a’Memphis - some no-good town.
I was born a poor, black child, uh-h, huh,
walkin' 'round with just a frown.
That’s where I cut these teeth on blues,
Lord, that curse done bring me down.

I’m just a tumbleweed, baby,
My venue is the lonely road.
I’m just a tumbleweed, a'tumblin',
Don’t own nothin' save my soul.
I’m a singer with no nightclub, baby,
Playin' the blues, that’s all I know.

Got no one to come home to,
Lie in bed awake all alone.
Got no one to come home to,
My body’s achin', can’t you hear it moan?
It’s the life that I was meant to live,
It’s a song, that’s just a poem.

I’m just a tumbleweed, baby,
My venue is the lonely road.
I’m just a tumbleweed, a'tumblin',
Don’t own nothin' save my soul.
I’m a singer with no nightclub, baby,
Play’in the blues, that’s all I know.

There’s a lot a people passin' by,
Still my cup ain’t made no noise.

I sing about what’s wrong with life,
Lord, it’s sho’ a heavy load.

Got a long road ahead a me,
Lord (Pause) - have mercy on my soul.

© 2005 Jeffrey James Ircink

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I think there's a future writing blues music.

I like the lyrics a lot!

 
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