This is a new version of a song I wrote almost a year ago … originally called ‘All We Had’. PapaGuinea liked it and did a lovely arrangement, which is tweaked a bit for this version … Pauline and I showed it to our friends Timmy and Martina last week, and Timmy suggested some new chords.
To listen to the song, please click here: Beating Hearts
We’re hoping that Timmy and Martina will record it soon, as they are both excellent singers – we will then put it on YouTube. In the meantime, this is Pauline and me.
BEATING HEARTS
All
All we had
All we had was not
All we had was not enough
Time
Time went by
Time went by and then
There was no more time for us
Hope
Hope that dwelt
Hope that dwelt inside
Hope that dwelt inside our minds
Left
Left one night
Left one night and then
There was no more hope of time
Spent
Spent as though
Spent as though the sun
Spent as though the sun would shine
On
On the lives
On the lives we lived
On your happy life and mine
If
If I could
If I could go back
If I could go back in time
I
I would not
I would not behave
Any differently this time
For
For I know
For I know that you
For I know that you knew too
All
All the love
All the love I had
In my beating heart for you
And
And I know
All the love you had
In your beating heart for me
In your beating heart
In your beating heart
In your beating heart for me
The road to God knows where ... Brendan O'Brien 
Very moving, have you thought of commercial marketing?
Thanks. I think a higher-quality recording may have commercial potential … we shall see.
Good morning Brendano
This is quite beautiful, haunting ode of love to Sean.
Pauline’s voice always adds a depth to your songs for Sean. I am sure your friends are excellent singers and will do their best when recording this song, but your own version has a unique dimension that cannot be duplicated.
Good morning Shermeen. Thanks very much … I’m glad you like this.
I hope life is good with you.
Life is good, yes Brendano. Contentment, happiness is all a state of mind. It is almost always possible to be content and happy. There is so much positive in life as compared to negative. All one has to do is focus on it. That said, I acknowledge some people are predisposed to be content. I suppose it is a huge blessing.
That’s very much my way of looking at things as well, Shermeen.
Brendano – I’ve been listening to this again and now recognise the opening chord as E minor, not C major7. Timmy has definitely given this a a new slant from what was going on in my head! It is interesting how different people may interpret a melody with the use of different structures (chord progressions). It is really interesting how chord progressions, even with simple changes, can alter the ‘colours’ of a song, even though the melody is unchanged .My take on this is that it has become too melancholic and the strumming a little heavy for the narrative. There you go – from the hip! )
My problem is that I always “saw” this song as a love song – a kind of lullaby, elevated from loss by the remembrance of something always treasured – the love between father and son. As I have said once before I would like to hear Aedin sing this to a harp accompaniment in arpeggio style on the C and F chords that I had in mind. You see, I don’t see this as a sad song – your own words and your own tune (the melody) dictate to me something different – something cherished, not something lost, and certainly not “jazzy!”. That being said, i would be keen to hear any Timmy/Martina version on You Tube – and …. when I am in Ireland …. you can set up a meet for me to play the version in my head! How’s that for a deal?
In any event I will try (with the help of my brother) to record a “harp accompaniment” to your lovely song and send the recording to you. . Shalom!
Hello, PapaG. Interesting comments, and I fully take your points regarding the latest version. I totally agree about the ‘colours’ that different chords can bring.
You may well be right about the ‘melancholic’ nature of the latest. From my point of view, though, it is great that different musicians can hear and interpret the song in different ways … and that they care enough about it to want to do so. This lets me know that I am on the right track!
I’d love to hear the version in your head (and so would Pauline) … I hope you’ll be over here before too long and, in the meantime, I look forward to hearing the ‘harp accompaniment’!
PS I think the logs in the picture represent an arpeggio accompaniment!
Yes, Sean is about to slide from a C down to an E, or something!
I listened to this and read the lyrics, Brendan.
I think the key is the line that says you wouldn’t do it any differently. I think this is good, and an acceptance that says much for how you and your family are dealing with Sean, much loved and loving, and his absence from your lives.
Time moves on and so does your family, despite the lack of the physical, your memories remain. This is how it should be, in my opinion, and how Sean would want it, I suspect.
It’s not easy, I know.
Thank you, Araminta. I agree with what you say. There are no regrets, except that Sean died … I was a good father and he was a good son. Our lives were good, and my life is still good.
We are moving on in our lives. Susanna is doing well in her new life in Dublin, is home every weekend and has a part-time job. Pauline, as well as doing her work, has started a kind of art group with some of her friends, which is going well. She wanted a creative outlet after Sean died, but found it difficult to paint on her own. As well as my work, I have music and other interests. It’s certainly how Sean would want it, as you say.
Hello Brendan,
I missed you and wanted to say hi.
The song is sad and nice.
My best wishes for you and your family.
Hello Levent … thanks very much, and best wishes to you and your family.
Thanks Brendan. It seems today is the birthday of Bob Marley.
Yes … he’d be 67 if still alive.
There’s an interview in Saturday’s Irish Times with Terri Hooley, a Belfast music promoter. When asked who was the most inspiring person he met, he replied ‘Bob Marley. When I was a very young fan, I wrote to him and he replied, telling me his father was Irish. Later, in the 1970s, I met him in London and he was every bit as wonderful as I’d hoped.’