Woke on this shimmering pink morning with a couple of Irish songs rattling around in my head -- one a love lament, Eileen Aroon, and the other a wry and rollicking appreciation of death, Isn't It Grand, Boys.
There was no especial reason or associative connection I could see in the arrival of this music. It seemed to pop up out of nowhere and I just enjoyed it and felt a little like a jukebox into which someone had dropped a couple of quarters.
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