[Instrumental Intro] (6/8 Celtic Ballad Rhythm, Irish bouzouki and tenor mandola weave a slow melody. A clear whistle carries the tune above the strings before a finger picked acoustic guitar enters with a steady rhythm.) Verse 1 In the foothills of California, where the evening shadows fall, A little girl named Kaitlyn heard the meadowlarks all call. And she was just aged seven years and knew little of life’s ways, The road took both her parents in a single tragic day. Her father, Sebastian West, wrote poems wild and free, And mother, Rowan, with her red-gold hair, played tunes across her knee. The bouzouki sang of Ireland, the mandola answered low, While the western winds of summer through the open windows blew. Chorus Oh Kaitlyn West, sing the old songs true, For the blood of County Down runs in you. From Lecayle's shores to the golden west, You've carried the names that your kinfolk blessed. Through tears and time, through joy and strife, Music has been your lantern light. Oh Kaitlyn West, let your clear voice ring, For the pure of heart were born to sing. Verse 2 Her grandmother, called Bobbi, though Roberta was her name, Took the child into her keeping when the sorrow came. She'd whistle like a blackbird in the dawning of the spring, Play guitar, harp and mandolin, and teach the girl to sing. The Savage clan remembered all the stories handed down, Of the fields beside the sea-winds in Dear Old County Down. Only one generation gone from Ireland's emerald shore, Yet every tune and family tale kept the “Old Sod” at the door. [Instrumental Interlude] (Irish Bouzouki for 6 bars followed by four bars of Tenor Mandola) Chorus Oh Kaitlyn West, sing the old songs true, For the blood of Down still runs in you. From Lecayle's shores to the golden west, You've carried the names that your kinfolk blessed. Through tears and time, through joy and strife, Music has been your lantern light. Oh Kaitlyn West, let your clear voice ring, For the pure of heart were born to sing. Bridge Rowan means the little red-head, bright as autumn's flame, And Caitlín means the pure of heart, the hope within her name. Though the years may pass like a river rolling to the sea, The songs of those who came before still live in memory. Sebastian's words like swallows fly across the evening sky, And Kaitlyn’s whistle answers them wherever breezes sigh. The bouzouki and mandola still echo soft and clear, As if the ones who loved her most are standing very near. Instrumental Break (Tenor Mandoa lead. Bouzouki harmony. Whistle takes the melody while harmonica answers in the final measures.) Verse 3 Now Kaitlyn stands before a crowd as twilight settles down, With her grandmother beside her in a weathered country town. She sings the songs of Ireland and the songs her parents knew, And some new songs of her new “Folk” American and true And every note becomes a thread that binds the old and new. The waves still wash The Banks of the Bann beneath the moonlit sky, And California's valleys hear the same wind passing by. For love is stronger than the loss that fate may leave behind, And music is the road that brings the scattered hearts in line. [Spoken Outro] (Gramma Bobbi’s gone too now. Love you all. This one’s for you.) Instrumental Outro (Whistle reprises the chorus melody. Bouzouki and mandola trade phrases. Harmonica enters softly. The final note is held by the whistle as the strings fade into silence.)
