Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Johnny Dynamite!

Johnny Dynamite (live) from Charlie O' Brien on Vimeo.
Above is a live version of a song I wrote concerning 19th century adventurer-Johnny "Dynamite" O' Brien. The song is called (appropriately)-Johnny Dynamite! This video was shot in my apartment in High Street, Killarney, and it's an outtake from an Indiegogo video I'm working on. I'm planning to raise funds for a film documentary entitled "A Captain Unafraid," and I plan to raise the funds through Indiegogo. The documentary itself, concerns Johnny Dynamite, and although the road to glory is toilsome and hard to tread, it's not a trip to Mars, and even if it was, I'd still be in the running it seems! So best of luck to me, and all that jazz. I'm aiming for blast off towards the end of February for my Indiegogo campaign, so watch this space!
Here's a link to the facebook page for the documentary.

Johnny Dynamite

Over there by the East river,
Where the seagulls cry and stretch their wings,
The shipyard boats are primed for leaving,
It’s a long time since Jonny went a fighting.
In the month of April, 1837,
Johnny's mother exhausted, sighed,
Held in her arms her new-born baby -
Johnny Dynamite O’Brien.
As a restless child he prowled the docks,
Seeking trouble or fortune, whichever he could find,
Soon learned his trade on Cherry Street,
On ships Jane and Albion then his trade he plied.
Marine Mambí Johnny Dynamite!

On the first days of a long summer, 
He first fought for Cuba and there Spain's demise.
On the Rambler he went roving, 
from New York Harbor he did incite -
To Boca del Toro and waiting soldiers
Bound for Cuba's foreign climes.
Laden down with mighty explosives - 
Pining for Havana’s harbor Cuba's pride.
As the rebels they went sailing,
A stormy gale did arise.
A mighty storm lashed the hold, 
And the 60 tonnes of dynamite.

Midnight dark, roaring, reeling, 
Explosives rolled loose, near set alight,
Johnny tied them down as he heard around him 
Sailors softly their prayers recite.
Marine Mambí Johnny Dynamite!

He smuggled all guns fired at Las Tunas, 
The prickly thorn in Valeriano Wayler’s side.
Brought Jose Martí’s son to that battle 
And 3000 pounds of dynamite. 
He settled down in the port Havana, 
As the cries of Cuba libre did subside, 
Swimming in the sparkling Caribbean sea,
Basking in freedom’s glory and sunny climes.
Before Johnny died he returned to the docks,
To see snowfall on New York Harbour's side.
No-more will Johnny go a roving,
He died that June as the scorching summer arrived.
Marine Mambí Johnny Dynamite!

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