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We so often believe too easily what we hear, much to our cost. Here our hero discovers, too late, that he's needlessly paid the ultimate price.


Molly, dear, you know you are the apple of my eye
You are my consolation when the winter winds do cry
I would not leave you, Molly, had I freedom of my heart
And so it grieves me, Molly, that the two of us must part

There is a golden country, far away, so I am told
Golden sunsets in the sky, and golden sands below
And golden people, Molly dear, but here's a dreadful thing
For all their airs and graces they don't let their women sing

Hand me down my sword and shield, for I must ride away
And I will teach them, if I can, the error of their ways
I'll teach them in the name of God, for God's the only king
And God is on my side, and they will let their women sing

Molly, like a broken bird, she fluttered to the floor
He's gone, he's gone, sweet Molly cried, I'll never see him more
He was my pride, and my delight, and he did a precious thing
He went to fight the madmen who don't let their women sing

Oh Molly, can you hear me, dear, I've something to confess
I might have offered up my life for something rather less
As I lay upon the battleground, with broken bodies all around
I swear that in the distance I could hear a woman sing


from Sweet Apples from a Lemon Tree, released January 29, 2021


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Andy McLaughlin Durham, UK

Celtic accompanist and singer/songwriter

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