|
IRELAND'S CALL
(Phil Coulter)
(With the Ireland rugby team representing both the Republic and Northern Ireland, "Ireland's Call" was scripted to help cross sectarian and national divides and adopted as the rugby anthem in 1995. However, at home matches in Dublin the Irish national anthem, the Soldier's Song, is also sung)
Come the day and come the
hour
Top of page
Top of page DANNY BOY [This song was written by Frederic Edward Weatherly (1848-1929), an english lawyer. He was also a radio entertainer and a songwriter. In 1910 he wrote words and music for a song he called "Danny boy", bot the song did not get much attention. Two years later, 1912, Weatherly's sister-in-law sent him a tune called "Londonderry air". He immediately noticed that the melody was perfect to his text. In 1913 Weatherly published a revised version of his lyrics to Londonderry air.] Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling From glen to glen and down the mountain side The summer's gone, and all the leaves are falling 'Tis ye, 'tis ye must go, and I must bide But come ye back when summer's in the meadow Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow 'Til I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow Danny boy, Oh Danny boy, I love you so And when ye come and all the flowers are dying If I am dead, as dead I well may be Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me And I shall hear, 'though soft ye tread around me And all my grave shall linger sweeter be Then ye will bend and tell me that ye love me And I shall sleep in peace until ye come to me Top of page THE DAWNING OF THE DAY One morning early I walked forth By the margin of Lough Leane The sunshine dressed the trees in green And summer bloomed again I left the town and wandered on Through fields all green and gay And whom should I meet but a colleen sweet At the dawning of the day No cap or cloak this maiden wore Her neck and feet were bare Down to the grass in ringlets fell Her glossy golden hair A milking pail was in her hand She was lovely, young and gay She wore the palm from Venus bright By the dawning of the day On a mossy bank I sat me down With the maiden by my side With gentle words I courted her And asked her to be my bride She said, "Young man don't bring me blame" And swiftly turned away And the morning light was shining bright At the dawning of the day Top of page DEAR BOSS (also known as THE SICK NOTE) Dear Boss, I write this note to tell you of my plight And at the time of writing I am not a pretty sight My body is all black and blue, my face a deathly gray And I hope you understand why Paddy's not at work today While working on the fourteenth floor, some bricks I had to clear And to throw them down from off the top seemed quite a good idea But the foreman wasn't very pleased, he was an awful sod He said I had to cart them down the ladder in me hod Well clearing all those bricks by hand, it seemed so very slow So I hoisted up a barrel and secured the rope below But in my haste to do the job, I was too blind to see That a barrel full of building bricks is heavier than me So when I had untied the rope, the barrel fell like lead And clinging tightly to the rope I started up instead I took off like a rocket and to my dismay I found That half way up I met the bloody barrel coming down Well the barrel broke my shoulder as to the ground it sped And when I reached the top I banged the pulley with me head I held on tight, though numb with shock from this almighty blow And the barrel spilled out half its load fourteen floors below Now when those building bricks fell from the barrel to the floor I then outweighed the barrel so I started down once more I held on tightly to the rope as I flew to the ground And I landed on those building bricks that were all scattered 'round Now as I lay there on the deck I thought I'd passed the worst But when the barrel reached the top, that's when the bottom burst A shower of bricks came down on me, and I didn't have a hope And as I was losing conciousness, I let go the bloody rope The barrel being heavier, it started down once more And landed right on top of me as I lay there on the floor It broke three ribs and my left arm, and I can only say That I hope you'll understand why Paddy's not at work today Top of page THE DEAR LITTLE SHAMROCK There's a dear little plant that grows in our isle 'Twas St Patrick himself sure that set it And the sun on his labour with pleasure did smile And with dew from his eye often wet it It shines thro' the bog, the brake and the mire-land And he called it the dear little shamrock of Ireland Chorus: The dear little shamrock, the sweet little shamrock The dear little, sweet shamrock of Ireland That dear little plant still grows in our land Fresh and fair as the daughters of Erin Whose smiles can bewitch and whose eyes can command In each climate they ever appear in For they shine through the bog, through the brake, through the mire-land Just like their own dear little shamrock That dear little shamrock that srings from our soil When its three little leaves are extended Denotes from the stalk we together should toil And ourselves by ourselves be befriended And still through the bog, through the brake, through the mire-land From one shoot should branch, like the shamrock of Ireland Top of page DEATH OF SCHOMBERG 'Twas on the day when kings did fight Beside the Boyne's dark water And thunder Roared from every height And earth was read with slaughter; That morn an aged chieftain stood Apart from mustering bands And, from a height that crowned the flood Surveyed broad Erin's land His hand upon his sword hilt leant His war-horse stood beside And anxiously his eyes were bent Across the rolling tide; He thought of what a changeful fate Had born him from the land Where frowned his father's castle gate High o'er the Renish strand And placed before his opening view A realm where strangers bled Where he, a leader, s carcely knew The tongue of those he led; He looked upon his chequered life From boyhood's earliest time Through scenes of tumult and of strife Endured in every clime To where the snows of eighty years Usurped the raven's strand And still the din was in his ears The broad-sword in his hand; He turned him to futurity Beyond the battle plain But then a shadow from on high Hung o'er the heaps of slain And through the darkness of the cloud The chief's prophetic glance Beheld, with winding-sheet and shroud His fatal hour advance; He quailed not as he felt him near The inevitable stroke But dashing off one rising tear 'Twas thus the old man spoke: "God of my fathers! Death is nigh My soul is not deceived My hour is come, and I would die The conqueror I have lived! Four Thee, for Freedom, have I stood For both I fall to -day: Give me but victory for my blood The price I gladly pay! "Forbid the future to restore A Stuart's despot gloom Or that, by freemen dreaded more The tyranny of Rome! From either curse let Erin freed As prosperous ages run Acknowledge what a glorious deed Upon that day was done!" He said--fate granted half his prayer His steed he straight bestrode And fell as on the routed rear Of Jame's host he rode; He sleeps in a cathedral's gloom Amongst the mighty dead; And frequent o'er his hallowed tomb Redeedful pilgrims tread: The other half, though fate deny We'll arrive for one and all And William's Schomberg's spirits nigh We'll gain or fighting fall! Top of page THE DECOMMISSIONING SONG We remember back in time in the year of '69 You unleashed your dogs of war onto our streets We could not stand idly by and let our families die We fought you back and joined the IRA Chorus: So stuff your f-ing crown we Irish won't lie down and give away our guns to foreign lands No semtex not our guns will you ever get from us You can stick your decommissioning up your ass Well you murdered free young men and you'll do the same again Decommissioning you will never ever see As long as we have men like those famous fighting men Yes those famous fighting men from Crossmaglen Chorus In memory of the ten they were Ireland's bravest men We will not forget the ones who fought and died Decommissioning you can see will never ever be 'Cause the IRA will always be around Chorus You can tell the RUC those black bastards from Drumcree You'll never march down Garvaghy road If you want to make a fight we will stand up for our rights You can take your fucking march and give us peace Chorus Now Trimble you're an ass if you think that it will last Six counties are under tyranny You can tell wee Tony Blair and Mo Mowlam if you dare They can stick their decommissioning up their ass Chorus Top of page DERRY'S DEATHLESS STORY Behold the crimson banner float O'er yonder turret hoary; It tells of days of mighty note And Derry's deathless story When her brave sons undaunted stood Embattled to defend her Indignant stemmed oppressions flood And sung out - "done Surrender!" Old Derry's walls were firm and strong Well fenced in every quarter Each frowning bastion grim along With culverin and mortar: But Derry had a surer guard Than all that art could lend her: Her 'Prentice hearts the gates who barr'd And sung out - "No Surrender!" On came the foe, in bigot ire And fierce the assault was given By shot and shell, 'mid streams of fire Her fated roof was riven; But baffled was the tyrant's wrath And vain his hopes to bend her For still, 'mid famine, fire and death And sung out - "No Surrender!" Again when treason madden'd round And rebel hordes were swarming Were Derry's sons the foremost found For King and country Ireland And forth they rush'd at honor's call From age to boyhood tender Again to man their virgin wall And sing out - "No Surrender!" Long may the crimson banner wave A meteor streaming airy Portentious of the free and brave Who guard the walls of Derry; And Derry's sons alike defy Pope, traitor or pretender And peal to Heaven the 'Prentice cry Their patriot - "No Surrender!" Top of page DE VALERA I remember the day De Valera he died My father he just broke down and he cried He wept like a baby for Dev was his pride But I shed no tears it held me no fear For a man of our time Now dev was a hero at Easter '16 He held Boland's mill for the orange and green He was sentenced to die with Pearse and McBride But his birth far away let him fight another day Lucky man of our times Chorus: He was loved he was hated he was cherished despised There were rivers of tears when the chieftain he died But love him or hate him I cannot decide What to make of old Dev this man of our times When I was in school Christian brothers were cruel To live off the land to be scarce was the rule And we fled in our droves to the emigrant boats We weren't free yet and we questioned respect For a man of our time My parents were poor and the cupboard was bare You can't feed a child on a dream or a prayer But the boys in Dail Eirean got rich as we pined They were led by the chief and we had no relief from a man of our times Now Spain had it's Franco and France it's De Gaulle We had our Dev and god rest his soul But history will judge on the man form Bruree De Valera's lost dream a nation unfree It's the shame of our time Top of page THE DEVIL AND BAILIFF MCGLYNN [This ballad was collected in Northern Ireland by Sean O'Boyle and Peter Kennedy in 1952. The tune is a traditional jig. (banbh = pig)] One fine sunny evening last summer I was straying along by the sea When a pair of quare playboys a-roving before me I happened to see Now to learn what these boy-os were up to A trifle I hastened me walk For I thought I could learn their profession When I got within range of their talk Now, one of these boys was the devil And the other was Bailiff McGlynn And the one was as black as the other And both were as ugly as sin Says the old boy, says he, "I'm the devil And you are a bailiff, I see" "Ah! 'tis the devil himself," cries the bailiff "Now that beats the devil," says he A gossoon ran out from a cottage and took him up over the fields "May the devil take you," said his mother As she rattled a stone at his heels "Ah now, why don't you take the young rascal your highness?" the bailiff he cried "It was not from her heart that she said it" the devil he smiling replied Close by a small patch of potatoes A banbh was striving to dig When the owner come out and she cried "May the devil take you for a pig!" Said the bailiff, "Now that's a fine offer Why not take the banbh?" says he "It was but with her lips that she said it And that's not sufficient for me" As they jogged on, the gossoon espyed them and into his mother he sped Crying, "Mother!" says he, "There's a bailiff!" She clasped her two hands and she said "May the devil take that ugly bailiff!" Said the old boy, "Bedad! That'll do It was straight from her heart that she said it So Bailiff McGlynn, I'll take you" Top of page DICEY REILLY Oh poor old Dicey Reilly, she has taken to the sup And poor old Dicey Reilly, she will never give it up It's off each morning to the pop that she goes in for another little drop But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly She will walk along Fitzgibbon Street with an independent air And then it's down by Summerhill, and as the people stare She'll say, "It's nearly half past one" Time I went in for another little one But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly Now at two, pubs close and out she goes as happy as a lark She'll find a bench to sleep it off at St. Patrick's Park She'll wake at five feeling in the pink And say, "Tis time for another drink" But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly Now she'll travel far to a dockside bar to have another round And after one or two or three she doesn't feel quite so sound After four she's a bit unstable After five underneath the table But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly Oh, they carry her home at twelve o'clock as they do every night Bring her inside, put her on the bed and then turn out the light Next morning she'll get out of bed And look for a cure for her head But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly Top of page DID YOUR MOTHER COME FROM IRELAND Oh I've never seen old Ireland o'er the ocean Tho' I've wished for the chance to greet it In my mind I've always had a crazy notion That I'd know a bit of Irish when I meet it Did your mother come from Ireland? 'Cos there's something in you Irish Will you tell me where you get those Irish eyes And before she left Killarney Did your mother kiss the Blarney? 'Cos your little touch of brogue you can't disguise Oh I wouldn't be romancin' I can almost see you dancin' While the Kerry pipers play Shure! And maybe we'll be sharin in the shamrock you'll be wearing On the next Saint Patrick's Day Did your mother come from Ireland? 'Cos there's something in you Irish And that bit of Irish steals my heart away Top of page DINGLE BAY The sun was sinking oer the westward The fleet is leaving Dingle shore I watch the men row in their curraghs As they mark the fishing grounds near Scellig Mor All through the night men toil until the daybreak while at home their wives and sweethearts kneel and pray That God might guard them and protect them and bring them safely back to Dingle Bay I see the green Isle of Valencia I mind the days around Lough Lein The gannets swinging with abandon As they watch the silver store that comes their way I also see a ship on the horizon She is sailing to a country far away on board are exiles feeling lonely As they wave a fond farewell to Dingle Bay Now years have passed as I came homeward And time has left me old and grey I sit and muse about my childhood And the happy times I spent near Dingle Bay I see again the green isle of Valencia And the Isle of Inishmore seems far away And I'm always dreaming of my childhood And the happy days I spent near Dingle Bay Top of page DIRTY OLD TOWN (Ewan McColl) I found my love 'neath the gasworks falls Dreamed a dream by the old canal Kissed my girl by the factory wall Dirty old town, dirty old town Clouds are drifting across the moon Cats are prowling on their beat Springs a girl in the streets at night Dirty old town, dirty old town Heard a siren from the dock Saw a train set the night on fire Smelled the spring on the smoky wind Dirty old town, dirty old town I'm going to take a good sharp ax Shining steel tempered in the fire We´ll chop you down like an old dead tree Dirty old town, dirty old town Top of page DOWN BY THE GLENSIDE 'Twas down by the glenside, I met an old woman She was picking young nettles and she scarce saw me coming I listened a while to the song she was humming Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men 'Tis fifty long years since I saw the moon beaming On strong manly forms and their eyes with hope gleaming I see them again, sure, in all my daydreaming Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men. Some died on the glenside, some died near a stranger And wise men have told us that their cause was a failure They fought for old Ireland and they never feared danger Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men I passed on my way, God be praised that I met her Be life long or short, sure I'll never forget her We may have brave men, but we'll never have better Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men Top of page DOWN BY THE SALLEY GARDENS (or ...Sally Gardens) [By W. B. Yeats] Down by the Salley Gardens my love and I did meet She passed the Salley Gardens with little snow white feet She bid me to take love easy, as the leaves grow on the trees But I, being young and foolish, with her did not agree In a field by the river, my love and I did stand And on my leaning shoulder she placed her snow white hand She bid me to take life easy, as the grass grows on the weir But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears Top of page DO YOU WANT YOUR OLD LOBBY WASHED DOWN I've a nice little cot and a small bit of land In a place by the side of the sea And I care about no one because I believe There's no body cares about me My peace is destroyed and I'm fairly annoyed By a lassie who works in the town She sighs every day as she passes the way: "Do you want your old lobby washed down?" Chorus: "Do you want your old lobby washed down, conshine Do you want your old lobby washed down?" She sighs every day as she passes the way: "Do you want your old lobby washed down?" The other day the old landlord came by for his rent I told him no money I had Beside t'wasn't fair for to ask me to pay The times were so awfully bad He felt discontent at no getting his rent And he shook his be head in a frown Says he: "I'll take half", and says I with a laugh: "Do you want your old lobby washed down?" Do you want your old lobby washed down, conshine Do you want your old lobby washed down? Says he: "I'll take half", and says I with a laugh: "Do you want your old lobby washed down?" Now the boys look so bashful when they go out courtin' They seem to look so very shy As to kiss a young maid, sure they seem half afraid But they would if they could on the sly But me, I do things in a different way I don't give a nod or a frown When I goes to court, I says: "Here goes for sport Do you want your old lobby washed down?" "Do you want your old lobby washed down, conshine Do you want your old lobby washed down?" When I goes to court, I says: "Here goes for sport Do you want your old lobby washed down, conshine?" Top of page DUBLIN JACK OF ALL TRADES Oh I am a roving sporting blade, they call me Jack of all Trades I always place my chief delight in courting pretty fair maids So when in Dublin I arrived to try for a situation I always heard them say it was the pride of all the Nations Chorus: I'm a roving jack of all trades Of every trade of all trades And if you wish to know my name They call me Jack of all trades On George's Quay I first began and there became a porter Me and my master soon fell out which cut my acquaintance shorter In Sackville Street, a pastry cook; In James' Street, a baker In Cook Street I did coffins make; In Eustace Street, a preacher In Baggot street I drove a cab and there was well requited In Francis Street had lodging beds, to entertain all strangers For Dublin is of high reknown, or I am much mistaken In Kevin Street, I do declare, sold butter, eggs and bacon In Golden Lane I sold old shoes: In Meath Street was a grinder In Barrack Street I lost my wife. I'm glad I ne'er could find her In Mary's Lane, I've dyed old clothes, of which I've often boasted In that noted place Exchequer Street, sold mutton ready roasted In Temple Bar, I dressed old hats; In Thomas Street, a sawyer In Pill Lane, I sold the plate, in Green Street, an honest lawyer In Plunkett Street I sold cast clothes; in Bride's Alley, a broker In Charles Street I had a shop, sold shovel, tongs and poker In College Green a banker was, and in Smithfield, a drover In Britain Street, a waiter and in George's Street, a glover On Ormond Quay I sold old books; in King Street, a nailer In Townsend Street, a carpenter; and in Ringsend, a sailor In Cole's Lane, a jobbing butcher; in Dane Street, a tailor In Moore Street a chandler and on the Coombe, a weaver In Church Street, I sold old ropes- on Redmond's Hill a draper In Mary Street, sold 'bacco pipes- in Bishop street a quaker In Peter Street, I was a quack: In Greek street, a grainer On the Harbour, I did carry sacks; In Werburgh Street, a glazier In Mud Island, was a dairy boy, where I became a scooper In Capel Street, a barber's clerk; In Abbey Street, a cooper In Liffey street had furniture with fleas and bugs I sold it And at the Bank a big placard I often stood to hold it In New Street I sold hay and straw, and in Spitalfields made bacon In Fishamble Street was at the grand old trade of basketmaking In Summerhill a coachmaker; in Denzille Street a gilder In Cork Street was a tanner, in Brunswick Street, a builder In High Street, I sold hosiery; In Patrick Street sold all blades So if you wish to know my name, they call me Jack of all Trades Top of page EASY AND SLOW 'Twas down by Christchurch that I first met with Annie A neat little girl and not a bit shy She told me her father, who came from Dungannon Would take her back home in the sweet by and by Chorus: And what's it to any man whether or no Whether I'm easy or whether I'm true As I lifted her petticoat easy and slow And I tied up my sleeves for to buckle her shoe We wandered by Thomas Street down to the Liffey The sunshine was gone and the evening grew dark Along by Kingsbridge and begot in a jiffy Me arms were around her beyond in the park Chorus From city or county a girl is a jewel And well made for gripping the most of them are But any young man he is really a fool If he tries at the first time to go a bit far Chorus Now if you should go to the town of Dungannon You can search till your eyes are weary or blind Be you lying or walking or sitting or running A girl like Annie, you never will find Chorus Top of page EILEEN AROON When, like the dawning day Eileen Aroon Love sends his early ray Eileen Aroon What makes his dawning glow Changeless through joy and woe Only the constant know Eileen Aroon Were she no longer true Eileen Aroon What would her lover do Eileen Aroon Fly with a broken chain Far o'er the bounding main Never to love again Eileen Aroon Youth must in time decay Eileen Aroon Beauty must fade away Eileen Aroon Castles are sacked in war Chieftains are scattered far Truth is a fixed star Eileen Aroon Top of page ERIN GO BRAGH I'll tell you a story of a row in the town When the green flag went up and the Crown rag came down 'Twas the neatest and sweetest thing ever you saw And they played the best games played in Erin Go Bragh One of our comrades was down at Ring's End For the honor of Ireland to hold and defend He had no veteran soldiers but volunteers raw Playing sweet Mauser music for Erin Go Bragh Now here's to Pat Pearse and our comrades who died Tom Clarke, MacDonagh, MacDiarmada, McBryde [?] And here's to James Connolly who gave one hurrah And faced the machine guns for Erin Go Bragh One brave English captain was ranting that day Saying, "Give me one hour and I'll blow you away," But a big Mauser bullet got stuck in his craw And he died of lead poisoning in Erin Go Bragh Old Ceannt and his comrades like lions at bay From the South Dublin Union poured death and dismay And what was their horror when the Englishmen saw All the dead khaki soldiers in Erin Go Bragh Now here's to old Dublin, and here's her renown In the long generation her fame will go down And our children will tell how their forefathers saw The red blaze of freedom in Erin Go Bragh Top of page THE FAIR AT TURLOUGHMORE [from Irish Songs of Resistance] Come tell me, dearest mother, what makes my father stay Or what can be the reason that he's been so long away? Oh hold your tongue, my darling son, your tears do grieve me sore I fear he has been murdered at the fair of Turloughmore Come all you tender Christians I hope you will draw near It's of this dreadful murder I mean to let you hear Concerning those poor people whose loss we do deplore The Lord have mercy on their souls, they died at Turloughmore 'Twas on the first of August the truth I will declare Those people they assembled that day all at the fair But little was their notion what evil was in store All by the bloody Peelers at the fair of Turloughmore Were you to see that dreadful sight 'twould grieve your heart I know To see those lovely women and the men all lying low God help their tender parents, they will never see them more For cruel was their murder at the fair of Turloughmore It's for that base bloodthirsty crew remark the word I say The Lord he will reward them against the Judgement Day The blood they've taken innocent for it they'll suffer sore And the treatment that they gave to us that day at Turloughmore The morning of their trial as they stood in the dock The words they spoke were feeling, the people round them flock "I tell you judge and jury, the truth I will declare It was Brew that ordered us to fire, that evening at the fair" Now to conclude and finish this sad and doleful lay I hope their souls are happy against the Judgement Day It was little time they got, we know, when they fell like new-mown hay May the Lord have mercy on their souls against the Judgment Day Top of page FAIRYTALE OF NEW YORK (By Kirsty McColl) It was Christmas Eve babe In the drunk tank An old man said to me, won't see another one And then he sang a song The Rare Old Mountain Dew And I turned my face away And dreamed about you Got on a lucky one Came in eighteen to one I've got a feeling This year's for me and you So happy Christmas I love you baby I can see a better time When all our dreams come true They've got cars Big as bars They've got rivers of gold But the wind goes right through you It's no place for the old When you first took my hand On a cold Christmas Eve You promised me Broadway was waiting for me You were handsome You were pretty Queen of New York City When the band finished playing They howled out for more Sinatra was swinging All the drunks they were singing We kissed on the corner Then danced through the night The boys of the NYPD choir Were singing 'Galway Bay' And the bells were ringing Out for Christmas day You're a bum You're a punk You're an old slut on junk Living there almost dead on a drip In that bed You scum bag You maggot You cheap lousy faggot Happy Christmas your arse I pray God It's our last I could have been someone So could anyone You took my dreams From me when I first found you I kept them with me babe I put them with my own Can't make it all alone I've built my dreams around you Top of page FARE THEE WELL ENNISKILLEN (1) Our troop was made ready at the dawn of the day From lovely Enniskillen they were marching us away They put us then on board a ship to cross the raging main To fight in bloody battle in the sunny land of Spain Chorus: Fare thee well Enniskillen, fare thee well for a while And all around the borders of Erin's green isle And when the war is over we'll return in full bloom And you'll all welcome home the Enniskillen Dragoons Oh Spain it is a gallant land where wine and ale flow free There's lots of lovely women there to dandle on your knee And often in a tavern there we'd make the rafters ring When every soldier in the house would raise his glass and sing Chorus Well we fought for Ireland's glory there and many a man did fall From musket and from bayonet and from thundering cannon ball And many a foeman we laid low, amid the battle throng And as we prepared for action you would often hear this song Chorus Well now the fighting's over and for home we have set sail Our flag above this lofty ship is fluttering in the gale They've given us a pension boys of fourpence each a day And when we reach Enniskillen never more we'll have to say Chorus Top of page FARE THEE WELL ENNISKILLEN (2) Chorus: Fare thee well Enniskillen, fare thee well for a while To all your fair waters and every green isle Oh your green isle will flourish your fair waters flow While I from old Ireland an exile must go Her hair is as brown as the young raven's wing Her eyes are as clear as the blue-bell of spring Father Once Said To Me In 1916, in the year of our Lord fighting came to Ireland, like it never had before For freedom comes to those who fight for its day so I picked up my rifle and joined the IRA My great grandfather once said to his son: the brits will leave before this year is done This war will soon be in the past and Ireland will be free at last Cause it won't be long until we've won that`s what my great grandfather said to his son A free and united Ireland was our only desire nd the best of the British Army couldn't put out that fire But a deal with the devil was soon put forth Freedom for the South and nothing for the North Well, this didn't seem really right with me For Ireland is one from sea to sea And the IRA said our job's not done So off to the North I went with my gun We fought in the fields, we fought in the streets And the English knew we couldn't be beat We fought with rifles, we fought with rocks And sent many a soldier home in a box The fight has been long and many have fell And we weep for the rebels who starved alone in a cell For the price of our freedom is paid with blood of those IRA men who have died in the mud Is life so sweet or is peace so dear? That the weight of chains are easy to bear For freedom comes to those who fight for its day So pick up your rifle and join the IRA Now I am a father and I have a son The brits are still here, they haven't gone And Ireland bleeds every year For in the North there is death and fear Until it's free, I'll keep my gun That's what I'm going to tell my son Top of page FAREWELL TO DUBLIN IN MY TEARS Fare thee well until we meet again down by the Liffey water I'll bid larewell to Dublin and her streets of cobblestones I'm going away to leave you, my friends and all the girls too Till I return to see you farewell old Dublin town To the City of our fathers where friend and foe have gathered Where the Norman, Dane and Saxon have mingled with he Gael Administered the kingdom and soon the Pale was reeling To cradle Ireland's freedom in dear old Dublin town Down by the river Poddle there was whiskey stout and coddle it was there with all the gentle folk, we laughed and danced and sang And courted with your daughters and swam around your waters And seen our buildings slaughtered in dear Old Dublin Town I remember in my childhood her mountains and her wild woods I've read of all her heroes in a classroom as a boy Of Thomas Street where Emmet died, in Sackville Street they fought with pride Of when brave Wolfe Tone did ride through dear old Dublin town Her poets they were many and her writers they were plenty There was Swift with all his little men and Joyce's Molly Bloom Our heroes they're an unsung gang there's Forty Coats and ould Bang Bang And Zozimus who always sang of dear old.Dublin town And now I'm standing on the Quay, my destiny's uncertain Where fortunes have been lost and won with he dealing of a hand The past it is a purple haze, the future is an untold maze The present is another gaze at dear old Dublin Town Top of page FARMER MICHAEL HAYES [Recorded by John Faulkner (with Dolores Keane) on "Farewell To Eirin" and by Planxty (Christy Moore) on "After The Break" (1979), who notes: "Christy heard versions of this song sung by John Lyons, Tom Lenihan an unknown singer on Donnacha O'Dulaing's "Highways And Byways". He received written versions from Mike Flynn and Seamus Mac Mathuna and there's another in Zimmerman's Songs of Irish Rebellion" This seems like a sort of crash course in Irish geography. The lyrics are those of Faulkner, Moore sings a couple of additional lines and lists even more place names!] I am a bold undaunted fox that never was before on tramp My rent, rate and taxes I was willing for to pay I made my name in fine good land Between Tipperary and Ochlong Where my forefathers lived and died A thousand years or so But then of late I was betrayed By one who was a fool I know, He told me I should leave the place And show me face no more And soon as he evicted me I thought it time that I should flee So late one night I took his life and left him laying low But by telegraph they did insert a great reward for my arrest My figure, size and form, my name without mistake They broke their brogues, one thousand pairs This great reward for to obtain But still their search was all in vain For Farmer Michael Hayes They searched Tipperary o'er and o'er The corn fields near Baltimore They went across to Wexford then But they'd not long delay By Ballyhill and Stridmore Strand They searched the woods as they came on Till they were hungry, wet and cold At the approach of day Then round the coast they made a steer From Pulbeg lighthouse to Cape Clear Killarney town and the sweet Tralee They then crossed into Clare And when they landed on the shore They searched Kilrush from tip to toe They searched the baths near sweet Lisdoon Likewise Miltown Malbay And Galway being a place of fame They thought 'twas there I might remain But still their search was all in vain For I gave them all legbail They searched the train at Oranmore As she was starting for Drumore And every carriage, car and coach They met upon the road And Connemara being remote They thought that there I might resort When they were getting weary, they resolved to try Mayo In Swinford town as I sat down I heard a dreadful cry of hounds So I lay there in an manger, till the approach of day Then to Dublin town I made my way And then to Cobh and Amerikay And left the hounds to search away For Farmer Michael Hayes And as the moon began to shine I thought I'd make a foreign clime Now I'm in the land of liberty, and fig for all my foes Top of page THE FENIAN RECORD PLAYER Wee Willie John McFadden was a loyal Ulster Prod Who thought that Ian Paisley was one step down from God He scorned the little children, in the backstreets of Ardoyne And he thought that history started with the Battle of the Boyne And he thought that history started with the Battle of the Boyne One day he took the brick in his hands and dandered up the Falls He was singing 'Up the Rangers' and hummin' Derry's Walls He broke the big shop window to annoy the Pope of Rome He took the record player and then he started home He took the record player and then he started home Next night they had a hooley at the local Orange Hall Wee Willie took his player to make music for the boys He chose a stack of records of a very loyal kind But when the music started he nearly lost his mind But when the music started he nearly lost his mind This Fenian record player was a rebel to the core It played out songs the Orange Hall had never heard before For Golly's Brae and Derry's Walls it didn't give a fig It speeded up God Save the Queen till it sounded like a jig It speeded up God Save the Queen till it sounded like a jig Well the boys were plain demented, to the ground Wee Will was thrown They kicked his ribs in one by one to the tune of Garryowen They threw him out the window to the song of Old Sinn Fein They kicked him all down Sandy Row to a Nation Once Again They kicked him all down Sandy Row to a Nation Once Again There's a moral to this story, what it is I cannot say Oh maybe its the ancient curse, crime it will not pay If you ask Wee Willie McFadden, he'll say you're kind, you know If you want to pinch a record player, do it up the Shankill Road If you want to pinch a record player, do it up the Shankill Road Top of page THE FENIANS' ESCAPE Now boys, if you will listen, a story I'll relate I'll tell you of the noble men who from their foe escaped Though bound with Saxon fetters in the dark Australian jail They struck a blow for freedom and for Yankeeland set sail On the seventeenth of April last the Stars and Stripes did fly On board the bark Catalpa, waving proudly to the sky She showed the green above the red as she did calmly lay Prepared to take the Fenian boys in safety o'er the sea When Breslin and brave Desmond brought the prisoners to the shore They gave one shout for freedom; soon to bless them evermore And manned by gallant Irish hearts, pulled towards the Yankee shore For well they knew, from its proud folds, no tyrant could them drag They had nearly reached in safety the Catalpa taut and trim When fast approaching them they saw a vision dark and dim It was the gunboat Georgette, and on her deck there stood One hundred hired assassins, to shed each patriot's blood The gunboat reached the bounding bark and fired across her bow Then in loud voice commanded that the vessel should heave to But noble Captain Anthony in thunder tones did cry "You dare not fire a shot at that bright flag that floats on high" "My ship is sailing peacefully beneath that flag of stars It's manned by Irish hearts of oak and manly Yankee tars And that dear emblem near the fore, so plain to be seen Is is the banner I'll protect, old Ireland's flag of green" The Britisher he sailed away, from the Stars and Stripes he ran He knew his chance was slim to fight the boys of Uncle Sam So Hogan, Wilson, Harrington, with Darragh off did go With Hassett and bold Cranston, soon to whip the Saxon foe Here's luck to Captain Anthony who well these men did free He dared the English man-o'-war to fight him on the sea And here's to that dear emblem which in triumph shall be seen The flag for which our heroes fought, old Ireland's flag of green Top of page FIDDLER'S GREEN (By John Connolly/Bill Meek, 1960s) As I went a walking one evening so rare To view the still waters and taste the salt air I heard an old fisherman singing this song Sayin', "Take me away boys, my time is not long" Chorus: "Wrap me up in me oil skins and blankets No more on the docks I'll be seen Just tell me old shipmates, I'm takin' a trip mates And I'll see you someday on fiddler's green" Now fiddler's green is a place I've heard tell Where fishermen go if they don't go to hell Where the weather is fair and the dolphins do play And the cold coast of Greenland is far far away Where the weather is fair and there's never a gale Where the fish jump on board with a swish of their tail You lie at your leisure there's no work to do While the skipper's below makin' tae for the crew I don't need a harp nor a halo not me Just give me a breeze and a good rollin' sea I'll play me old squeeze box as we sail along And the wind in the riggin' will sing me this song.. Top of page THE FIELDS OF ATHENRY By a lonely prison wall I heard a young girl callin' "Michael they have taken you away For you stole Trevelyn's corn So the young might see the morn Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay" Chorus: Low lie the fields of Athenry Where once we watched the small free birds fly Our love was on the wing, we had dreams and songs to sing It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry By a lonely prison wall I heard a young man calling "Nothing matters, Mary, when you're free Against the famine and the Crown I rebelled, they cut me down Now you must raise our child with dignity" By a lonely harbour wall she watched the last star falling As that prison ship sailed out against the sky For she'll live in hope and pray For her love in Botany Bay It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry Top of page FINNEGAN'S WAKE Tim Finnegan lived in Watling street A gentleman Irishman -- mighty odd He'd a beautiul brogue, so rich and sweet And to rise in the world, he carried the hod But, you see he'd sort of a tipping way With a love for the liquor poor Tim was born And so to help him through with his work each day He'd drop of the craythin' every morn Chorus: Whack; fol-de-dooh-dah, dance to your partner Welt the floor, yer truthers shake Isn't it the truth I've told ye? Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake One morning Tim was rather full His head felt heavy, which made him shake He fell from the ladder and broke his skull So they carried him home a corpse to wake They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet And laid him out upon the bed With fourteen candles round his feet and a gallon of porter at his head Chorus: Whack; fol-de-dooh-dah, dance to your partner Welt the floor, yer truthers shake Isn't it the truth I've told ye? Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake His friends assembled at his wake Missus Finnegan called for the lunch First they laid in tea and cake Then pipes and tobacky and whiskey-punch Miss Biddy O'Brien began to cry 'Such a dacent corpse did you ever see? Arrah! Tim avourmeen, an why did ye die?' 'Ooh, none of your gab,' sez Billy Magee Chorus: Whack; fol-de-dooh-dah, dance to your partner Welt the floor, yer truthers shake Isn't it the truth I've told ye? Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake Then Peggy O'Connor took up the job 'Aargh! Biddy, says she, 'Ye'r wrong, I'm sure' But Biddy then gave her a belt on the gob And left her sprawling on the floor Each side in war did soon engage 'Twas woman to woman and man to man Shullelah law was all the rage And a row and a rucus soon began Chorus: Whack; fol-de-dooh-dah, dance to your partner Welt the floor, yer truthers shake Isn't it the truth I've told ye? Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake Mikey Mulvaney raised his head When a gallon of whiskey flew at him It missed him -- and hopping on the bed The liquor scattered all over Tim! Bedad he revives! See how he rises! An' Timothy, jumping from the bed Cried, while he lathered round like blazes 'In the name of the devil, d'ye think I'm dead' Chorus: Whack; fol-de-dooh-dah, dance to your partner Welt the floor, yer truthers shake Isn't it the truth I've told ye? Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake Top of page FLIGHT OF EARLS (The Wolfe Tones) I can hear the bells of Dublin in this lonely waiting room and the paper boys are singing in the rain Not too long before they take us to the airport and the noise to get onboard a transatlantic plane We've got nothing left to stay for we have no more left to say and there isn't any work for us to do So farewell you boys and girls another bloody Flight of Earls our best asset is our best export, too.. It's not for fear of famine that makes us leave this time we're not going to join McAlpine's Fusiliers We've got brains and we've got visions we've got education too but we just can't throw away these precious years So we walk the streets of London and the streets of Baltimore and we meet the night in several Boston bars We're the leaders of the future but we're far away from home and we dream of you beneath the Irish stars As we look on Ellis Island and the Lady in the bay and Manhattan turns to face another Sunday We just wonder what you're doing for to bring us all back home as we look forward to another Monday Because it's not the work that scares us we don't mind an honest job and we know things will get better once again So a thousand times adieu we've got Bono and U2 and all we're missing is the Guinness and the rain So switch off your new computers 'cause the writing's on the wall we're leaving as our fathers did before Take a look at Dublin Airport and the boat that leaves North Wall there'll be no youth unemployment any more Because they're over here in Queensland and in parts of New South Wales we're on the seas and airways and the trains And if we see better days don't big airplanes go both ways and we're all be coming home to you again Top of page FLOWER OF SWEET STRABANE If I were King of Ireland's Isle And had all things at my will I'd roam for recreation And I'd seek for comfort still The comfort I would ask for So that you may understand Is to win the heart of Martha The Flower of Sweet Strabane Her cheeks they are a ruby red Her hair a lovely brown And o'er her milk white shoulders It carelessly hangs down She is the fairest creature And the pride of all her clan And my heart is captivated By the flower of Sweet Strabane Well I've been in the Phoenix Park And in Killarney fair The lovely glens of Antrim And the winding banks of Clare In all my earthly travels I never yet met one That could compare, I do declare With the Flower of Sweet Strabane But since I cannot gain her love No joy there is for me And I must seek forgetfulness In lands across the sea Unless she cares to follow me I swear by my right hand McKenna's face you'll ne'er more see My Flower of Sweet Strabane So it's farewell to sweet Derry Quay New Mills and Waterside I'll sail out o'er the ocean Whatever may betide I'll sail away from Derry Quay Out by the Isle of Man And I'll bid farewell to Martha The Flower of Sweet Strabane Top of page THE FOGGY DEW 'Twas down the glen one Easter morn To a city fair rode I When Ireland's line of marching men In squadrons passed me by No pipe did hum, no battle drum Did sound it dread tattoo But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey's swell Rang out in the foggy dew Right proudly high over Dublin town They hung out a flag of war 'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky Than at Suvla or Sud el Bar And from the plains of Royal Meath Strong men came hurrying through While Brittania's huns with their long-range guns Sailed in from the foggy dew 'Twas England bade our wild geese go That small nations might be free Their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves On the fringe of the grey North Sea But had they died by Pearse's side Or fought with Cathal Bruga Their graves we'd keep where the Fenians sleep 'Neath the hills of the foggy dew The bravest fell, and the solemn bell Rang mournfully and clear For those who died that Eastertide In the springing of the year And the world did gaze in deep amaze At those fearless men and true Who bore the fight that freedom's light Might shine through the foggy dew Top of page FOLLOW ME UP TO CARLOW (Patrick Joseph McCall ca. 1890, Melody dates from pre-1500's) [In 1580, at the pass of Glen Malure, near Glendalough, County Wicklow, Fiach MacHugh O'Byrne overthrew the forces of the English Crown under Lord Grey de Wilton. The victory is commemorated in this great song. Thomas FitzWilliam was born around 1519 and died 1592, fought against the natives outside "The pale" led by Shane O'Neill in 1560 and 1566, and finally defeated the O'Tooles and O'Byrnes in 1601.] Lift Mac Cahir Óg your face, brooding o'er the old disgrace That black FitzWilliam stormed your place, and drove you to the fern Grey said victory was sure, soon the firebrand he'd secure Until he met at Glenmalure: Feach Mac Hugh O'Byrne! Chorus: Curse and swear, Lord Kildare! Feach will do what Feach will dare Now FitzWilliam, have a care! Fallen is your star, low! Up with halbert, out with sword! On we'll go, for, by the Lord, Feach Mac Hugh has given the word: "Follow me up to Carlow!" See the swords of Glen Imayle, flashing o'er the English Pale! See all the children of the Gael beneath O'Byrne's banners! Rooster of a fighting stock, would you let a Saxon cock Crow out upon an Irish rock? Fly up and teach him manners! From Tassagart to Clonmore, there flows a stream of Saxon gore Och, great is Rory Óg O'More at sending loons to Hades! White is sick and Grey is fled, now for black FitzWilliam's head! We'll send it over, dripping red, to queen Liza and her ladies! Top of page FORTY SHADES OF GREEN I close my eyes and picture the emerald of the sea From the fishing boats at Dingle to the shores of Donaghadea I miss the River Shannon, the folks at Skibbereen The moorlands and the meadows and the forty shades of green But most of all I miss a girl in Tipperary town And most of all I miss her lips as soft as eiderdown Again I want to see and do the things we've done and seen Where the breeze is sweet as Shalamar And there's forty shades of green I wish I could spend an hour at Dublin churning stuff I'd love to watch the farmer drain the bog and spade the turf To see again the thatching of straw the women clean I'd walk from Cork to Larne to see the forty shades of green But most of all I miss a girl in Tipperary town and most of all I miss her lips as soft as eiderdown Again I want to see and do the things we've done and seen Where the breeze is sweet as Shalamar And there's forty shades of green Top of page FOR WHAT DIED THE SONS OF RóISIN For What Died the Sons of Róisín, was it fame? For What Died the Sons of Róisín, was it fame? For what flowed Irelands blood in rivers That began when Brian chased the Dane And did not cease nor has not ceased With the brave sons of '16 For what died the sons of Róisín, was it fame? For What Died the Sons of Róisín, was it greed? For What Died the Sons of Róisín, was it greed? Was it greed that drove Wolfe Tone to a paupers death in a cell of cold wet stone? Will German, French or Dutch inscribe the epitaph of Emmet? When we have sold enough of Ireland to be but strangers in it For What Died the Sons of Róisín, was it greed? To whom do we owe our allegiance today? To whom do we owe our allegiance today? To those brave men who fought and died that Róisín live again with pride? Her sons at home to work and sing Her youth to dance and make her valleys ring Or the faceless men who for Mark and Dollar Betray her to the highest bidder To whom do we owe our allegiance today? For what suffer our patriots today? For what suffer our patriots today? They have a language problem, so they say How to write "No Trespass" must grieve their heart full sore We got rid of one strange language now we are faced with many, many more For what suffer our patriots today? Top of page FOUR GREEN FIELDS (Tommy Makem) What did I have, said the fine old woman What did I have, this proud old woman did say I had four green fields, each one was a jewel But strangers came and tried to take them from me I had fine strong sons, who fought to save my jewels They fought and they died, and that was my grief said she Long time ago, said the fine old woman Long time ago, this proud old woman did say There was war and death, plundering and pillage My children starved, by mountain, valley and sea And their wailing cries, they shook the very heavens My four green fields ran red with their blood, said she What have I now, said the fine old woman What have I now, this proud old woman did say I have four green fields, one of them's in bondage In stranger's hands, that tried to take it from me But my sons had sons, as brave as were their fathers My fourth green field will bloom once again said she Top of page FREEDOM SONS Chorus: They were the men with the vision the men with the cause The men who defied their oppressors laws The men who traded their chains for guns Born into slavery they were freedoms sons At Easter time 1916 When flowers bloomed and leaves were green There dawned a day when freedoms cry Called on brave men come fight or die In Dublin town they fought and died With Pearse McDermott and McBride Ourselves alone their battle cry And freedom rang through that Easter sky A poets dream had sparked that flame A raging fire it soon became And from that fire of destiny Arose a nation proud and free Six counties are in bondage still They died brave men was this their will Until we're free and oppression ceased Only then brave men shall sleep in peace Top of page FREE THE PEOPLE Laws were made for people and the law can never scorn The right of a man to be free Chorus: Free the people, let them have their say Free the people, let them see the light of day Addys Madden was breaking when they took her man away Not knowing what was his crime Just what he was guilty of not one of them could say But they think of something in time He says "Goodbye and remember, we shall overcome" Comforting her children softly crying in the night She tries very hard to explain "You know your daddy never did a thing that wasn't right So soon he's bound to be home again He is a good man and he shall overcome" But does is profit him, the right to be born If he suffers the loss of liberty Laws were made for people and the law can never scorn The right of a man to be free We are the people and we shall overcome We are the people and we shall overcome Top of page FROM CLARE TO HERE (1) Well there's four of us who share the room, we work hard for the brass And getting up late on Sunday, I never go to mass Chorus: It's a long long way from Clare to here It's a long long way from Clare to here Oh, it's a long long way, it gets further day by day It's a long long way from Clare to here When Friday night comes around and Eddy's only in the fighting My ma would like a letter home but I'm too tired for writing Well it almost breaks my heart when I think of Josephine I promised I'd be coming back with pockets full of green I dream I hear a piper play maybe it's emotion I dream I see white horses dance on that other ocean Top of page FROM CLARE TO HERE (2) There's four who share the room and we work hard for the craic Getting up late on a Sunday, i never get to Mass Chorus: It's a long long way from Clare to here It's a long long way from Clare to here It's a long long way, it gets further every day It's a long long way from Clare to here When Friday night comes round, you'll always find me fighting My ma would like a letter home, but I'm too tired for writing Chorus The only time I feel all right, is when I'm out drinking it eases off the pain a bit and levels out my thinking Chorus It almost breaks my heart when I think of Josephine I told her I'd be coming home, my pockets full of green Chorus I dreamt I heard a piper play - or was it just a notion I dreamt I saw white horses dance upon that other ocean Top of page GALLIPOLI (Swan/Doyle) I remember the day it stands clear in my mind We went down to Dun Laoighaire to wave you goodbye Your ma was quietly weeping, there was a tear in my eye your sailing to Gallipoli to die You looked so young as you stood there with a glint in your eye and you sang rebel songs as the streamers flew high Your ma she turned away and I heard her sigh you are sailing to Gallipoli to die Chorus: You were all that we had, your mammy and me when you marched head erect you were proud as could be but it killed your poor ma and it slowly killing me when you were blown to kingdom come on the shores of Gallipoli We got only one letter we knew right away It said deepest regrets your son was bold and he was brave you were only 19 yet your mammy and I let you sail to Gallipoli to die Chorus You fought for the wrong country you fought for the wrong cause and your ma often said that it was Ireland's great loss all those fine young men who marched to foreign shores to fight the war when the greatest war of all was at home Chorus Top of page GALWAY BAY If you ever go across the sea to Ireland Then maybe at the closing of your day You will sit and watch the moon rise over Claddagh And see the sun go down on Galway Bay Just to hear again the ripple of the trout stream The women in the meadows making hay And to sit beside a turf fire in the cabin And watch the barefoot gosoons at their play For the breezes blowing over the seas from Ireland Are perfumed by the heather as it blows And the women in the uplands diggin' praties Speak a language that the strangers do not know For the strangers came and tried to teach us their way They scorn'd us just for being what we are But they might as well go chasing after moonbeams Or light a penny candle from a star And if there is going to be a life hereafter And somehow I am sure there's going to be I well ask my God to let me make my heaven In that dear land across the Irish sea Top of page GALWAY FARMER [Song written in 1992 by Steve Knightley from the group Show of Hands] I worked my days on a Galway Farm In the sun and rain and wind and storm But once a year I'll chance my arm And cross the sea to England I'll scrimp and save 2000 pounds Spend the week in Cheltenham town But the racing over always down I come back poor from England I dreamed one night before I left A coal black mare with a white star chest Crossed the line and beat the rest I came back rich to Galway I rose at dawn and drove all day Thinking, wondering all the way Lady luck have you come to stay Or steal away in the morning When I got to Cheltenham town Irish faces all around No bed or mattress to be found I slept out on the hillside I spent three days at the viewing ring Saw the horses they led in And just as I was giving in I stood and stared in wonder With stamping hooves and steaming breath A coal black mare with a white star chest I ran my finger down the list I matched the name and number Well Lady Luck had come half way The horses name was Galway Bay 20-1 were the odds that day I went to make my wager I counted out 2000 pounds Held it high, slapped it down The bookie smiled but made no sound I knew what he was thinking The biggest loser in all the land With pounding heart and shaking hands I made my way up to the stand The horses came to order But at the first she nearly fell I cursed my farmers luck to hell The second and third she took quite well Way behind the leaders Then moving swiftly from the back Found the rails and caught the pack Ten to go and from the back Her hooves were drumming thunder She’s catching horses one by one Bridle flashing in the sun Eight to go and a mile to run Two are left before her Down the straight and on they sped Left one at the last for dead Caught the next and by a head She came home a winner So I came back to my Galway farm A wiser and a richer man But never again I'll chance my arm Or cross the sea to England 'Cos Lady Luck was mine that day I held her close and she went my way I raised a glass to the Galway Bay And the dream of the Galway farmer Top of page THE GALWAY RACES (1) As I rode down to Galway town to seek for recreation On the seventeenth of August me mind being elevated There were multitudes assembled with their tickets at the station Me eyes began to dazzle and I'm goin' to see the races Chorus: With your whack-fa-the-da-for-the-diddle-ee-iddle-day There were passengers from Limerick and passengers from Nenagh And passengers from Dublin and sportsmen from Tipperary There were passengers from Kerry, and all quarters of our nation And our member, Mr. Hearst, for to join the Galway Blazers There were multitudes from Aran, and members from New Quay shore Boys from Connemara and the Clare unmarried maidens There were people from Cork city, who were loyal, true and faithful Who brought home the Fenian prisoners from diverse foreign nations It's there you'll see confectioners with sugarsticks and dainties The lozenges and oranges, the lemonade and raisins! The gingerbread and spices to accomodate the ladies And a big crubeen for thruppence to be pickin' while you're able It's there you'll see the gamblers, the thimbles and the garters And the spotting Wheel of Fortune with the four and twenty quarters There was others without scruple pelting wattles at poor Maggy And her father well-contented and he lookin' at his daughter It's there you'll see the pipers and the fiddlers competing The nimble footed dancers a-tripping over the daisies There were others crying cigars and lights and bills for all the races With the colors of the jockeys and the prize and horses' ages It's there you'll see the jockeys and they're mounted out so stately The pink, the blue, the orange, and green, the emblem of our nation When the bell was rung for starting, all the horses seemed impatient I thought they never stood on ground their speed was so amazing There was half a million people there from all denominations The Catholic, the Protestant, the Jew, and Presbyterian There was yet no animosity, no matter what persuasion But "failte" and hospitality inducin' fresh acquaintance Top of page THE GALWAY RACES (2) As I rode down to Galway Town to seek for recreation On the seventeen of August me mind being elevated There were multitudes assembled with their tickets at the station And me eyes beggan to dazzle and they off to see the races With me wack fol the do fol the diddle idle day There were passengers from Limerick and passengers from Nenagh The boys of Connemara and the Clare unmarried maiden There were people from Cork City who were loyal, true and faithful Who brought home the Fenian prisoners from dying in foreign nations With me wack fol the do fol the diddle idle day And it's there you see the pipers and the fiddlers competing And the sporting wheel of fortune and the four and twenty quaters And there's others without scruple pelting wattles at poor Maggie And her father well contented and he gazing at his daughter With me wack fol the do fol the diddle idle day And it's there you see the jockeys and they mounted on so stably The pink, the blue, the orange, and green the colours of our nation When the bell was rung for starting all the horses seemed impatient Their feet they hardly touched the ground the speed was so amazing! With me wack fol the do fol the diddle idle day There was half a million people there of all denominations The Catholic, the Protestant, the Jew the Presbyterian There was yet no animosity no matter what persuasion But failte hospitality Inducing fresh acquaintance With me wack fol the do fol the diddle idle day Top of page THE GALWAY RACES (3) As I rode down to Galway Town to seek for recreation On the seventeenth of August, me mind being elevated There were multitudes assembled with their tickets at the station Me eyes began to dazzle and I'm going to see the races With me whack fol-da-da, fol-da-diddly-ida-day There were passengers from Limerick and more from Tipperary Boys from Connemara and the flair of married ladies People from Cork City who were loyal, true and faithful Who brought home the Fenian prisoners from dying in foreign nations With me whack fol-da-da, fol-da-diddly-ida-day It's there you'll see the jockeys and they're mounted out so stately The pink, the blue, the orange and green, the emblem of our Nation When the bell was rung for starting, all the horses seemed impatient I thought they never stood on groung, their speed was so amazing With me whack fol-da-da, fol-da-diddly-ida-day There was half a million people there from all denominations The Catholic, the Protestant, the Jew and Presbyterian There was yet no animosity, no matter what persuasion But sportsman hospitality and induce fresh aquaintance With me whack fol-da-da, fol-da-diddly-ida-day Top of page GÁRDAI 'N RÍ (The King's Own Guards) Rachaidh mise suas le Gárdaí 'n Rí Agus bhéarfaidh mis' anuas ar láimh liom í Nach mise chuirfeadh cluain ar a báin-chnios mín Agus bhéarfadidh mé go Tuaifín í grá mo chroí Tógaigí suas ar ghruaidh-mhín an iomair' í Lasadh ina gruaidh agus buaidh gach duine léi 'Ghiolla 'tá gan gruaim a chuirfeadh cluain ar an iomataí Nach é mo scéal truaighe mar luaidheadh mise leat Níl mise tinn agus níl mé slán Is ró-mhór m'osna is ní fhéadaim a rá Nuair a smuaintím ar an uair úd a bhí mé is tú, 'ghrá Guala ar ghualainn agus lámh ar láimh Galar claoite 'choíche 'n grá 'S mairg ar a mbíonn sé oíche ná lá Gidh gur cruaidh 'n rud a' snaidhm 's nach scaoiltear é go bráth O is, a chomrádaí díleas, go dté tú slán Top of page THE GARDEN WHERE THE PRATIES GROW Have you ever been in love, me boys? Oh! have you felt the pain? I'd rather be in jail, me boys/myself Than be in love again For the girl I loved was beautiful I'd have you all to know And I met her in the garden Where the praties grow Chorus: She was just the sort of creature, boys That nature did intend To walk right through the world, me boys Without a Grecian Bend Nor did she wear a chignon I'd have you all to know And I met her in the garden Where the praties grow Said I, "My pretty/lovely colleen I hope you'll pardon me/hope that you agree" And she wasn't like the city girls Who'd say "You're making free" She looked at me right modestly/honestly And curtsied very low "Sure, you're welcome in the garden Where the praties grow" Chorus Says I, "My lovely darling/pretty Colleen I'm tired of single life And if you've no objections I will make you my sweet wife." Says she, "I'll ask my parents And tomorrow I'll let you know If you'll meet me in the garden/ and i mmet you in the garden Where the praties grow" Chorus Her parents they consented And we're blessed with children three: Two girls just like their mother And a boy the image of me We'll train them up in decency The way they ought to go And we'll send them to the garden Where the praties grow Chorus Top of page GARRYOWEN [Garryowen is known to have been used by Irish regiments as a drinking song. The name is derived from Gaelic meaning Owen's garden, and is nowadays part of Limerick city. That was where the 5th Royal Irish Lancers made their home, and soon the song became associated with the Lancers' drinking. The Irish poet Thomas Moore wrote the words around 1807. The tune is first documented as Auld Bessy in 1788. General George Armstrong Custer reportedly heard the song among his Irish troops and liked it. Lieutenant Colonel (Captain) Myles W. Keogh and several other officers with ties to the Fifth Royal Irish Lancers and the Papal Guard, two Irish regiments in the British Army, were believed to be instrumental in bringing the air to the regiment. The tune was then played so often the 7th Cavalry became tied to it. In 1867 it was adopted as the official marching song of the Seventh Cavalry. It was the last song played for Custer's men as they left general Alfred Terry's column at the Powder River and rode into history by being defeated by the warriors of the Lakota, Cheyenne and Arapaho nations on the morning of 25th June 1876 at the Battle of Little Bighorn] Let Bacchus' sons be not dismayed But join with me each jovial blade Come booze and sing and lend your aid To help me with the chorus Chorus: Instead of spa we'll drink brown ale And pay the reckoning on the nail For debt no man shall go to gaol (jail) From Garryowen in glory We are the boys that take delight in Smashing the Limerick lamps when lighting Through the street like sportsters fighting And tearing all before us We'll break the windows, we'll break the doors The watch knock down by threes and fours Then let the doctors work their cures And tinker up our bruised We'll beat the bailiffs out of fun We'll make the mayor and sheriffs run We are the boys no man dares dun If he regards a whole skin Our hearts so stout have got us fame For soon 'tis known from whence we came Where'er we go they dread the name Of Garryowen in glory Johnny Connell's tall and straight And in his limbs he is complete He'll pitch a bar of any weight From Garryowen to Thomondgate Garryowen is gone to rack Since Johnny Connell went to Cork Though Darby O'Brien leapt over the dock In spite of judge and jury Top of page GIVE ME YOUR HAND (Tabhair dom do lámh) Just give me your hand Tabhair dom do lámh Just give me your hand And I'll walk with you Through the streets of our land Through the mountains so grand If you give me your hand Just give me your hand And come along with me Will you give me your hand And the world it can see That we can be free In peace and harmony? From the north to the south From the east to the west Every mountain, every valley Every bush and birds nest! Just give me your hand Tabhair dom do lámh Just give me your hand For the world it is ours All the sea and the land To destroy or command If you give me your hand Just give me your hand In a gesture of peace Will you give me your hand And all troubles will cease For the strong and the weak For the rich and the poor? All peoples and creeds Let's meet their needs With a passion, we can fashion A new world of love! Chorus: By day and night Through all struggle and strife And beside you, to guide you Forever, my love For love's not for one But for both of us to share For our country so fair For our world and what's there Top of page GOD SAVE IRELAND (T. D. Sullivan) High upon the gallows tree swung the noble-hearted Three By the vengeful tyrant stricken in their bloom But they met him face to face, with the courage of their race And they went with souls undaunted to their doom Chorus: "God save Ireland!" said the heroes "God save Ireland" said they all "Whether on the scaffold high Or the battlefield we die 0, what matter when for Erin dear we fall!" Girt around with cruel foes, still their courage proudly rose For they thought of hearts that loved them for and near Of the millions true and brave o'er the ocean's swelling wave And the friends in holy Ireland ever dear Chorus Climbed they up the rugged stair, rang their voices out in prayer Then with England's fatal cord around them cast Close beside the gallows tree kissed like brothers lovingly True to home and faith and freedom to the last Chorus Never till the latest day shall the memory pass away Of the gallant lives thus given for our land But on the cause must go, amidst joy and weal and woe Till we make our Isle a nation free and grand Chorus Top of page GOODBYE MICK The ship it sails in half an hour to cross the broad Atlantic My friends are standing on the quay with grief and sorrow frantic I'm just about to sail away in the good ship Dan O'Leary The anchor's weighed and the gangway's up, I'm leaving Tipperary Chorus: And it's goodbye Mick and goodbye Pat and goodbye Kate and Mary The anchor's weighed and the gangway's up, I'm leaving Tipperary And now the steam is blowing off, I have no more to say I'm bound for New York City boys, three thousand miles away In my portmanteau here I have some cabbage, beans and bacon And if you think I can't eat that, well, there's where yer mistaken For this ship will play with pitch and toss for half a dozen farthings I'll roll me bundle on me back and walk to Castle gardens Now I won't come that Yankee chat, I guess I'm calculatin' Come liquor up old sonny boy, when an old friend I am treatin' I'm deep in love with Molly Burke like an ass is fond of clover I'll send for her when I get there - that's if she will come over Then fare thee well old Erin dear, to part me heart does ache well From Carrickfergus to Cape Clear - I'll never see your equal Although to foreign parts we're bound where cannibals may eat us We'll ne'er forget the Holy Ground of poteen and potatoes When good St Paddy banished snakes he shook them from his garment He never thought we'd go abroad to look upon such vermint Nor quit this land where whiskey grew to wear the Yankee button Take vinegar for mountain dew and toads for mountain mutton Top of page THE GREEN FIELDS OF FRANCE (Written by Eric Bogle) [Originally called "No Man's Land", it is also known as "Willie McBride"] Well how do you do, young Willie McBride Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside And rest for a while 'neath the warm summer sun I've been walking all day and I'm nearly done I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen When you joined the great call-up in nineteen-sixteen I hope you died well and I hope you died clean Or Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene Chorus: Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly Did they sound the dead march as they lowered you down? And did the band play the 'Last post' and chorus? Did the pipes play the 'Flowers of the forest'? Did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined? Although you died back in nineteen sixteen In that faithful heart are you forever nineteen? Or are you a stranger without even a name Enclosed and forever behind the glass frame In a old photograph, torn and battered and stained And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame? Chorus The sun now it shines on the green fields of France There's a warm summer breeze, makes the red poppies dance And look how the sun shines from under the clouds There's no gas, no barbed wire, there's no guns firing now But here in this graveyard it's still no-man's land The countless white crosses stand mute in the sand To man's blind indifference to his fellow man To a whole generation that were butchered and damned Chorus Now young Willie McBride I can't help wonder why Do those who lie here know why did they die? And did they believe when they answered the call Did they really believe that this war would end wars? For the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the pain The killing, the dying was all done in vain For young Willie McBride, it all happened again And again, and again, and again, and again Chorus Top of page HILLS OF CONNEMARA Chorus: Gather up the pots and the old tin cans The mash, the corn, the barley and the bran Run like the devil from the excise man Keep the smoke from rising, Barney Keep your eyes well peeled today The excise men are on their way Searching for the mountain tay In the hills of Connemara Swinging to the left, swinging to the right The excise men will dance all night Drinkin' up the tay till the broad daylight In the hills of Connemara Chorus A gallon for the butcher and a quart for John And a bottle for poor old Father Tom Just to help the poor old dear along In the hills of Connemara Stand your ground, for it's too late The excise men are at the gate Glory be to Paddy, but they're drinkin' it straight In the hills of Connemara Chorus twice Top of page HOW ARE THINGS IN GLOCCA MORRA How are things in Glocca Morra? Is that little brook still leaping there? Does it still run down to Donny-cove? Through Killybegs, Kilkerry and Kildare? How are things in Glocca Morra? Is that willow tree still weeping there? Does that laddie with the twinklin' eye Come whistlin' by and does he walk away Sad and dreamy there not to see me there? So I ask each weepin' willow And each brook along the way And each lad that comes a'whistlin' Too-ra-lay How are things in Glocca Morra This fine day? Top of page IF I WAS A BLACKBIRD I am a young maiden, my story is sad For once I was courted by a brave sailin' lad He courted me strongly, by night and by day Oh, but now he has left me, and sailed far away Chorus: And if I was a blackbird I'd whistle and sing And I'd follow the vessel my true love sails in And on the top riggin' I would there build my nest And I'd flutter my wings o'er his lily white breast Chorus Well, he promised to take me to Donnybrook Fair And to buy me red ribbons for to tie up my hair And when he'd come home from the ocean so wide He would take me, and make me, his own bonny bride Chorus Now his parents they slight me, and will not agree That me and my sailor boy married will be But when he comes home, I will greet him with joy And I'll take to my heart my dear sailor boy Chorus Top of page IF YOU'RE IRISH... In sweet Lim'rick Town, they say Lived a chap named Patrick John Molloy Once he sailed to the U.S.A. His luck in foreign parts he thought he'd try Now he's made his name, and is a wealthy man He put a bit away for a rainy day So if you gaze upon The house of Patrick John You'll find a notice that goes on to say: Chorus: If you're Irish come into the parlour There's a welcome there for you If your name is Timothy or Pat So long as you come from Ireland There's a welcome on the mat If You come from the Mountains of Mourne Or Killarney's lakes so blue We'll sing you a song and we'll make a fuss Whoever you are you are one of us If you're Irish, this is the place for you Patrick loved the girl he wed But he could not stand his Ma-n-aw Once with joy he turned quite red When she got into trouble thro' her jaw Six police they had to take her to the Court She was informed a month she would have to do So Patrick quickly wrote Up to the Judge a note Explaining, "Sir, I'm much obliged to you!" Top of page I'LL TAKE YOU HOME AGAIN KATHLEEN [This song was written in 1875 by Thomas Westendorf, a public school music teacher in Plainfield, Illinois, USA. The first public performance of the tune was in Plainfield's town hall. He wrote the tune for his wife Jeanie, while she was visiting her home town of Ogdensburg, New York. In 1876 the tune was one of two most popular songs in America - the other being Grandfather's Clock.] I'll take you home again, Kathleen Across the ocean wild and wide To where your heart has ever been Since you were first my bonnie bride The roses all have left your cheek I've watched them fade away and die Your voice is sad when e'er you speak And tears bedim your loving eyes Chorus: Oh! I will take you back, Kathleen To where your heart will feel no pain And when the fields are fresh and green I'll take you to your home again! I know you love me, Kathleen, dear Your heart was ever fond and true I always feel when you are near That life holds nothing, dear, but you The smiles that once you gave to me I scarcely ever see them now Though many, many times I see A dark'ning shadow on your brow Chorus To that dear home beyond the sea My Kathleen shall again return And when thy old friends welcome thee Thy loving heart will cease to yearn Where laughs the little silver stream Beside your mother's humble cot And brightest rays of sunshine gleam There all your grief will be forgot Chorus Top of page I'LL TELL ME MA I'll tell me ma when I go home The boys won't leave the girls alone They pulled my hair and they stole my comb Well that's all right till I go home She is handsome, she is pretty She is the belle of Belfast City She is counting..one, two, three! Please won't you tell me, who is she Albert Mooney says he loves her All the boys are fighting for her They knock at the door and they ring at the bell Sayin', "Oh my true love, are you well?" Out she comes as white as snow Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes Old Johnny Murray says she'll die If she doesn't get the fellow with the rovin' eye Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high And the snow come tumblin' from the sky She's as nice as apple pie, She'll get her own lad by and by When she gets a lad of her own She won't tell her ma when she comes home Let them all come as they will For it's Albert Mooney she loves still Top of page I.R.E.L.A.N.D. Come all ye lads and lassies and sit you down with me And I will tell the truth about a land that's dear to me You've read it in the papers and you've seen it on TV But I will spell it out for you, what Ireland means to me Chorus: I is for internment of the innocent and free R is for resistance to the laws of tyranny E is for the English who have torn our land apart L is for the love of freedom in every Irish heart A is for the answer we're all searching for N is for one nation and an end to this long war D is for the dream of millions longing to be free That's how I spell Ireland, that`s what Ireland means to me This land was once respected for its saints and scholars too But now the bomb and bullet that's all that makes the news I know that it's confusing and it's hard to understand But I will spell it out for you by spelling Ireland Repeat chorus Top of page THE IRISH EMIGRANT I'm sitting on the stile, Mary, where we once sat side by side On a bright May morning long ago, when first you were my bride The corn was springing fresh and green, and the lark sang loud and high And the red was on your lips, Mary, and the love light in your eyes Tis but a step down yonder lane, the village Church stands near The place where we were wed, Mary, I can see the spire from here But the graveyard lies between, Mary, and my step might break your rest Where I laid you darling down to sleep with a baby on your breast I'm very lonely now, Mary, for the poor make no new friends But oh they love the better still the few our Father sends For you were all I had, Mary, my blessing and my pride And I've nothing left to care for now since my poor Mary died Yours was the good brave heart, Mary, that still kept hoping on When the trust in God had left my soul and my arms young strength had gone There was comfort ever on your lip and a kind look on your brow And I thank you Mary for the same though you cannot hear me now I'm bidding you a long farewell, my Mary kind and true But I'll not forget you, darling, in the land I'm going to They say there's bread and work for all, and the sun shines always there But I'll ne'er forget old Ireland, were it fifty times as fair And often in those grand old woods I'll sit and shut my eyes And my heart will wander back again to the place where Mary lies And I think I'll see that little stile where we sat side by side In the springing corn and the bright May morn' when first you were my bride Top of page THE IRISH FREE STATE I went to see David, to London to David I went to see David, and what did he do? He gave me a Free State, a nice little Free State A Free State that's bound up with Red, White and Blue I brought it to Dublin to show to Dail Eirann I brought it to Dublin, and what did they do? They asked me what kind of a thing was a Free State A Free State that's tied up with Red, White and Blue "Three quarters of Ireland a nation," I told them "Tied on to the Empire with Red, White and Blue; And an oath they must swear to King George and Queen Mary An oath they must swear to the son-in-law new I'm teaching them Irishand painting their boxes All over with green, sure, what more can I do? Yet they tell me they want just an Irish Republic Without any trimmings of Red, White and Blue! Top of page THE IRISH MAIL ROBBER It's adieu to old Ireland, the place where I was born Near the county of Limerick, near the state of Glengall; Far away to some island, bound down like a slave It was in my own country I did misbehave It was my old father who did caution me To leave off night walking, shun bad company; Saying, "Son, you are young and they'll lead you astray You will think of these words when I'm cold in the clay" But to all his good advices I never gave care And still I went on with my wicked career; 'Twas drinking and gambling by night and by day To maintain those rude "wimming" and dress them up gay I had not been long in this wicked career Before I was taken by the laws of the land; Was tried and found guilty of a mail robbery And for ages transported across the salt sea 'Tis now I'm safe landed on my own native shore and looking around me I can see my cell door; And looking around me I can see my cell door Which causes me to think of my mother once more Oft times I have wondered why "wimming" love men More times I have wondered why men should love them; They lead you to ruin and cause your downfall They'll cause you to sleep behind cold prison walls Top of page THE IRISH ROVER (1) In the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and six we set sail from the coal quay of Cork We were bound far away with a cargo of bricks for the fine city hall of New York In a very fine craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft and oh, how the wild winds drove her She had twenty-three masts and withstood several blasts and we called her the Irish Rover There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee there was Hogan from County Tyrone And Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work and a chap from West Meath called Malone There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule and fighting Bill Casey from Dover There was Dooley from Claire who was strong as a bear and was skipper of the Irish Rover We had one million bales of old nanny goats' tails we had two million barrels of stones We had three million sides of old blind horses hides we had four million packets of bones We had five million hogs, and six million dogs and seven million barrels of porter We had eight million bags of the best Sligo rags in the hold of the Irish Rover We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out and the ship lost her way in a fog (BIG FOG!) And the whole of the crew was reduced down to two 'Twas myself and the captain's old dog Then the ship struck a rock, Oh Lord what a shock and then she heeled right over Turned nine times around, and the poor dog was drowned I'm the last of the Irish Rover Top of page THE IRISH ROVER (2) In the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and three set sail from the County of Cork We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks for the grand city hall in New York We had an elegant craft, it was rigged 'fore and 'aft And how the trade winds drove her she had twenty three masts and she stood several blasts And they called her the Irish Rover There was Barney Magree from the banks of the Lee there was Hogan from County Tyrone There was Johnny McGurk, who was scared stiff of work and a chap from WestMeath named Malone There was Slugger O'Toole, who was drunk as a rule and fighting Bill Tracy that drove her And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann was the skipper of the Irish Rover We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags we had two million barrels of bone We had three million bales of old nanny goats' tails we had four million barrels of stone We had five million hogs and six million dogs and seven million barrels of porter We had eight million sides of old blind horses hides in the hold of the Irish Rover We had sailed seven years, when the measles broke out and our ship lost her way in a fog And the whole of the crew was reduced down to two 'Twas myself and the captain's old dog Then the ship struck a rock. O Lord, what a shock and nearly tumbled over Turned nine times around, then the poor old dog was drowned I'm the last of the Irish Rover Top of page IRISH SOLDIER BOY At a cottage door one winters' night as the snow lay on the ground Stood a youthful Irish soldier boy to the mountains he was bound His mother stood beside him saying you'll win my boy don't fear With loving arms around his waist she tied his bandolier Good bye, God bless you mother dear I hope your heart won't pain But pray to God that you should see your soldier boy again And when I'm out in the firing line it will be a source of joy For you to know that you're remembering still your Irish soldier boy And when the fighting it was o'er and the flag of truce was raised The leaders ordered fire to cease all Ireland stood amazed His comrades came to the cottage door with a note from her pride and joy With an aching heart she cried God be good to her Irish soldier boy Goodbye, God bless you mother dear I'm dying a death so grand From wounds received in action trying to free my native land I hope we'll meet in heaven above in that land beyond the sky Where you'll always be in company with Your Irish Soldier boy Top of page IRISH SOLDIER LADDIE 'Twas a morning in July, I was walking to Tipperary When I heard a battle cry from the mountains over head As I looked up in the sky I saw an Irish soldier laddie He looked at me right fearlessly and said: Chorus: Will ye stand in the band like a true Irish man And go and fight the forces of the crown? Will ye march with O'Neill to an Irish battle field? For tonight we go to free old Wexford town! Said I to that soldier boy, "Won't you take me to your captain T'would be my pride and joy for to march with you today My young brother fell in Cork and my son at Innes Carthay!" Unto the noble captain I did say: As we marched back from the field in the shadow of the evening With our banners flying low to the memory of our dead We returned unto our homes but without my soldier laddie Yet I never will forget those words he said: Top of page IRISH WAYS AND IRISH LAWS Once upon a time there was Irish ways and Irish laws Villages of Irish blood Waking in the morning Waking in the morning Then the Vikings came around Turned us up and turned us down Started building boats and towns They tried to change our living They tried to change our living Cromwell and his soldiers came Started centuries of shame But they could not make us turn We are a river flowing We're a river flowing Again, again the soldiers came Burnt our houses, stole our grain Shot the farmers in their fields Working for a living Working for a living Eight hundred years we have been down The secret of the water sound Has kept the spirit of the man Above the pain descending Above the pain descending Today the struggle carries on I wonder will I live so long To see the gates being opened up To a people and their freedom A people and their freedom Top of page ISLE OF INISHFREE I've heard some folks who say that I'm a dreamer And I've no doubt there's truth in what they say But sure a body's bound to be a dreamer When all the things he loves are far away And precious things are dreams unto an exile they take him o'er a land across the sea Especially when it happens you're and exile from that dear lovely Isle of Innishfree Chorus: And when the moonlight peeps across the rooftops of this great city, wondrous though it be I scarcely feel it's wonder or it's laughter I'm once again back home in Inishfree I wonder o'er green hills, through dreamy valleys And find a peace no other land could know I hear the birds make music fit for angels And watch the rivers laughing as they flow But dreams don't last though dreams are not forgotten And soon I'm back to stern reality But though they pave the footpaths here with gold dust I still would choose my Isle of Inishfree Top of page 'T WAS PRETTY TO BE IN BALLINDERRY 'Twas pretty to be in Ballinderry 'Twas pretty to be in Aghalee Still prettier to be on bonny Ram's Island Sitting forever beneath a tree For often I sailed to bonny Ram's Island Arm in arm with Phelim, my diamond And he would whistle and I would sing And we would make the whole island ring "I'm going," he said, "from bonny Ram's Island Out and across the deep blue sea And if in your heart you love me, Mary Open your arms at last to me" 'Twas pretty to be in Ballinderry But now it's as sad as sad can be For the ship that sailed with Phelim, my diamond Is sunk forever beneath the sea 'Twas pretty to be in Ballinderry 'Twas pretty to be in Aghalee Still prettier to be on bonny Ram's Island Sitting forever beneath a tree Top of page JAMES CONNOLLY A great crowd had gathered outside of Kilmainham With their heads uncovered they knelt on the ground For inside that grim prison lay a brave Irish soldier His life for his country about to lay down He went to his death like a true son of Ireland The firing party he bravely did face Then the order rang out: "Present Arms, Fire!" James Connolly fell into a ready-made grave The black flag was hoisted the cruel deed was over Gone was the man who loved Ireland so well There was many a sad heart in Dublin that morning When they murdered James Connolly, the Irish Rebel! God's curse on you, England, you cruel-hearted monster Your deeds they would shame all the devils in hell There are no flowers blooming but the shamrock is growing On the grave of James Connolly, the Irish Rebel! Many years have rolled by since that Irish rebellion When the guns of Britannia they loudly did speak The bold I.R.A. they stood shoulder to shoulder And the blood from their bodies flowed down Sackville Street The Four Courts of Dublin the English bombarded The spirit of Freedom they tried hard to quell For above all the din rose the cry "No Surrender," 'Twas the voice of James Connolly, the Irish Rebel Top of page JOHNNY BE FAIR Oh, Johnny be fair and Johnny be fine he wants me for to wed And I would marry Johnny, but me father up and said "I'm sorry to tell you daughter, what your mother never knew But Johnny is a son of mine and so he's kin to you" Oh, Willie be fair and Willie be fine he wants me for to wed And I would marry Willie, but me father up and said "I'm sorry to tell you daughter, what your mother never knew But Willie too is a son of mine and so he's kin to you" Oh, Thomas be fair and Thomas be fine he wants me for to wed And I would marry Thomas, but me father up and said "I'm sorry to tell you daughter, what your mother never knew But Thomas is a son of mine and so he's kin to you" Oh, you never saw a maid so sad and sorry as I was The lads in town were all me kin and me father was the cause If life should thus continue, I will die a single miss I think I'll go to mother and complain to her of this "Oh, daughter, haven't I told you to forgive and to forget? Your father sowed his wild oats, but still you need not fret Your father may be father to all the lads in town, but still He's not the one who sired you, so marry whom you will" Top of page JOHNNY I HARDLY KNEW YE While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo While goin' the road to sweet Athy A stick in me hand and a drop in me eye A doleful damsel I heard cry Johnny I hardly knew ye With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo With your drums and guns and drums and guns The enemy nearly slew ye Oh my darling dear, Ye look so queer Johnny I hardly knew ye Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo Where are your eyes that were so mild When my heart you so beguiled Why did ye run from me and the child Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo Where are your legs that used to run When you went for to carry a gun Indeed your dancing days are done Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo I'm happy for to see ye home All from the island of Sulloon So low in flesh, so high in bone Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg Ye're an armless, boneless, chickenless egg Ye'll have to put with a bowl out to beg Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo They're rolling out the guns again But they never will take our sons again No they never will take our sons again Johnny I'm swearing to ye Top of page JOHNSON'S MOTOR CAR It was down by Brannigan's corner one morning I did stray I met a fellow rebel and to me he did say We have orders from our Captain to assemble at Dunbar But how are we to get there without a motor car Oh Barney dear be of good cheer I'll tell you what we'll do The Specials they are plentiful but the I.R.A. are few We'll send a wire to Johnson to meet us at Stranlar And we'll give the boys a jolly good drive in Johnson's Motor Car When Doctor Johnson heard the news he soon put on his shoes He said this is an urgent case, there is not time to lose He then put on his castor hat and on his breast a star You could hear the din going through Glen Fin of Johnson's Motor Car But when he got to the Railway Bridge, the rebels he saw there Ould Johnson knew the game was up for at him they did stare He said I have a permit to travel near and far To hell with your English permit, we want you motor car What will my loyal brethren think when they hear the news My car it has been commandeered by the rebels at Dunluce We'll give you a receipt for it, all signed by Captain Barr And when Ireland gets her freedom, boy, you'll get your motor car! Well they put that car in motion and they filled it to the brim With guns and bayonets shining, which made ould Johnson grim Then Barney hoisted the Sinn Fein flag and it fluttered like a star And we gave three cheers for the I.R.A. and Johnson's motor car Top of page THE JOLLY BEGGARMAN I am a little beggarman, a begging I have been For three score years in this little isle of green I'm known along the Liffey from the Basin to the Zoo And everybody calls me by the name of Johnny Dhu Of all the trades a going, sure the begging is the best For when a man is tired he can sit him down and rest He can beg for his dinner, he has nothing else to do But to slip around the corner with his old rigadoo I slept in a barn one night in Currabawn A shocking wet night it was, but I slept until the dawn There was holes in the roof and the raindrops coming thru And the rats and the cats were a playing peek a boo Who did I waken but the woman of the house With her white spotted apron and her calico blouse She began to frighten and I said boo Sure, don't be afraid at all, it's only Johnny Dhu I met a little girl while a walkin out one day Good morrow little flaxen haired girl, I did say Good morrow little beggarman and how do you do With your rags and your tags and your auld rigadoo I'll buy a pair of leggins and a collar and a tie And a nice young lady I'll go courting by and by I'll buy a pair of goggles and I'll color them with blue And an old fashioned lady I will make her too So all along the high road with my bag upon my back Over the fields with my bulging heavy sack With holes in my shoes and my toes a peeping thru Singing, skin a ma rink a doodle with my auld rigadoo Oh I must be going to bed for it's getting late at night The fire is all raked and now tis out of light For now you've heard the story of my auld rigadoo So good and God be with you, from auld Johnny Dhu Top of page JUG OF PUNCH Twas very early in the month of June As I was sitting with my glass and spoon A small bird sat on an ivy bush And the song he sang was the jug of punch CHORUS: Too-rah-loo-rah-loo Too-rah-loo-rah-lay Too-rah-loo-rah-loo Too-rah-loo-rah-lay A small bird sat on an ivy bush And the song he sang was the jug of punch If I were sick and very bad And was not able to go or stand I would not think it at all amiss To pledge my shoes for a jug of punch What more diversion can a man desire Than to sit him down by a snug coal fire Upon his knee a pretty wench And upon the table a jug of punch And when I'm dead and in my grave No costly tomb stone will I have I'll dig a grave both wide and deep With a jug of punch at my head and feet Top of page JUST GIVE ME YOUR HAND Just give me your hand And I'll walk with you Through the streets of our land Through the mountains so grand if you give me your hand Just give me your hand and come along with me will you give me your hand and the world it can see that we can be free in peace and harmony from the north to the south from the east to the west every mountain every valley every bush and bird's nest by day and night through our struggle and strife and beside you to guide you forever my love for love's not for one, but for both of us to share for our country so fair for a world that waits there just give me your hand just give me your hand for the world it is ours for the sea and the land to destroy or command if you give me your hand just give me your hand in a gesture of peace Will you give me your hand and all troubles will cease for the strong and the weak for the rich and the poor all peoples and creeds let's meet their needs with a passion we could fashion a new world of love Chorus Top of page KATHLEEN MAVOURNEEN Kathleen Mavourneen! the grey dawn is breaking The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill The lark from her light wing the bright dew is shaking Kathleen Mavourneen! What, slumbering still! O hast thou forgotten how soon we must sever? O hast thou forgotten this day we must part? It may be for years, and it may be forever Oh, why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart? It may be for years, and it may be forever Then why art thou silent, Kathleen Mavourneen? Kathleen Mavourneen! Awake from thy slumbers The blue mountains glow in the sun's golden light Ah! Where is the spell that once hung on my numbers? Arise in thy beauty, thou star of my night Mavourneen, mavourneen, my sad tears are falling To think that from Erin and thee I must part It may be for years, and it may be forever Oh, why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart? It may be for years, and it may be forever Then why art thou silent, Kathleen Mavourneen? Top of page KELLY OF KILLANE What's the news, what's the news, oh my bold Chevalier With your long barrelled gun of the sea? Say what wind from the south blows his messenger here With a hymn of the dawn for the free Goodly news, goodly news, do I bring youth of forth Goodly news shall you hear, Bargy man For the boys march at morn from the south to the north Led by Kelly the boy from Killane Tell me who is that giant with gold curling hair He who rides at the head of your band? Seven feet is his height, with some inches to spare And he looks like a king in command Ah my lads that's the pride of the bold chevaliers 'Mong our greatest of heroes, a man! Fling your beavers aloft and give three ringing cheers For John Kelly, the boy from Killane Enniscorthy's in flames, and old Wexford is won And the Barrow tomorrow we cross On ahill o'er the town we have planted a gun That will batter the gateway of Ross All the Forth men and Bargy men march o'er the heath With brave Harvey to lead on the van But the foremost of all in the grim Gap of Death Will be Kelly, the boy from Killane But the gold sun of freedom grew darkened at Ross And it set by the Slaneys red waves And poor Wexford stript naked hung high on a cross And her heart pierce by traitors and slaves Glory O! Glory O! to her brave sons who died For the cause of long down-trodden man! Glory O! to Mount Leinster's own darling and pride Dauntless Kelly, the boy from Killane Top of page THE KERRY DANCE Chorus: Oh, the days of the Kerry dancing Oh, the ring of the piper's tune Oh, for one of those hours of gladness Gone, alas, like our youth, too soon! When the boys began to gather In the glen of a summer's night And the Kerry piper's tuning Made us long with wild delight! Oh, to think of it Oh, to dream of it Fills my heart with tears! Chorus Was there ever a sweeter Colleen In the dance than Eily More Or a prouder lad than Thady As he boldly took the floor Lads and lasses to your places Up the middle and down again Ah, the merry hearted laughter Ringing through the happy glen! Oh, to think of it Oh, to dream of it Fills my heart with tears! Chorus Time goes on, and the happy years are dead And one by one the merry hearts are fled Silent now is the wild and lonely glen Where the bright glad laugh will echo ne'er again Only dreaming of days gone by in my heart I hear Loving voices of old companions Stealing out of the past once more And the sound of the dear old music Soft and sweet as in days of yore When the boys began to gather In the glen of a summer's night And the Kerry piper's tuning Made us long with wild delight! Oh, to think of it Oh, to dream of it Fills my heart with tears! Chorus Top of page THE KERRY RECRUIT About four years ago, I was digging the land with my brogues on my feet and my spade in my hand says I to myself what a pity to see Such a fine strapping lad footing turf in Tralee Chorus: Wid me toora na nya, and me toora na nya Wid me toora na noora na noora na nya So I buttoned my brogues and shook hands with my spade and I went to the fair like a dashing young blade When up comes the sergeant and asks me to 'list "Arra, Sergeant, a gra, put the bob in my fist" And the first thing they gave me it was a red coat with a wide strap of leather to tie round my throat They gave me a quare thing, I asked what was that and they told me it was a cockade for my hat The next thing they gave me, they called it a gun with powder and shot and a place for my thumb And first she spit fire and then she spit smoke Lord, she gave a great lep and my shoulder near broke The next place they sent me was down to the sea On board of a warship bound for the Crimea Three sticks in the middle all rowled round with sheets Faith, she walked thro' the water without any feet We fought at the Alma, likewise Inkermann but the Russians they whaled us at the Redan In scaling the walls there myself lost my eye and a big Russian bullet ran off with my thigh It was there I lay bleeding, stretched on the cold ground heads, legs and arms were scattered all around Says I, if my man or my cleaveens were nigh they'd bury me decent and raise a loud cry They brought me the doctor, who soon staunched my blood and he gave me an elegant leg made of wood They gave me a medal and tenpence a day contented with Sheela, I'll live on half-pay Top of page KEVIN BARRY [Kevin Barry was a young volunteer in the IRA. He was caught hiding under a truck after an ambush on British troops in Queen Street, Dublin, in which a british soldier was killed. He was sentenced to death and was hung on 1st November 1920.] In Mountjoy jail one Monday morning High upon the gallows tree Kevin Barry gave his young life For the cause of liberty But a lad of eighteen summers Still there's no one can deny As he walked to death that morning He proudly held his head on high Just before he faced the hangman In his dreary prison cell The Black and Tans tortured Barry Just because he wouldn't tell The names of his brave comrades And other things they wished to know "Turn informer and we'll free you" Kevin Barry answered, "no" "Shoot me like a soldier Do not hang me like a dog For I fought to free old Ireland On that still September morn" "All around the little bakery Where we fought them hand to hand Shoot me like a brave soldier For I fought for Ireland" "Kevin Barry, do not leave us On the scaffold you must die!" Cried his broken-hearted mother As she bade her son good-bye Kevin turned to her in silence Saying, "Mother, do not weep For it's all for dear old Ireland And it's all for freedom's sake" Calmly standing to attention While he bade his last farewell To his broken hearted mother Whose grief no one can tell For the cause he proudly cherished This sad parting had to be Then to death walked softly smiling That old Ireland might be free Another martyr for old Ireland Another murder for the crown Whose brutal laws to crush the Irish Could not keep their spirit down Lads like Barry are no cowards From the foe they will not fly Lads like Barry will free Ireland For her sake they'll live and die Top of page LAKES OF COOLFIN It was early one mornin' young Willie rose and off to his comrade's bed chamber did go sayin, "Arise dearest comrades! Let nobody know" "It's a fine summer's mornin' and a bathin' we'll go!" Well Willie plunged in and he swam to lay ground 'till he came to an island of soft marshy gound crying, "Comrades dearest comrades, do not venture in! For there's false and deep waters in the Lakes of Coolfin well early next morning Willie's sister arose and onto her mother's bedchamber did go sayin', "I had a sad dream 'bout Willie last night He was clad in a shroud, In a shroud of snow white" Well later that evening Willie's mother stood there she was ringing her fingers and tearing her hair saying woe to the hour young Willie plunged in For there's false and deep waters in the Lakes of Coolfin Well I saw a fair maid standing fast by the shore her face it was sad she was crying for sure singing woe to the hour young Willie plunged in For there's false and deep waters in the Lakes of Coolfin Top of page LAKES OF PONTCHARTRAIN T'was on one bright March morning I bid New Orleans adieu And I took the rode to Jackson town, me fortune to renew I cursed all foreign money, no credit could I gain Which filled me heart with longin' for the Lakes of Pontchartain I stepped on board of a railroad car beneath the morning sun And I rode the roads 'til evening and I laid me down again All strangers here, no friends to me 'til a dark girl towards me came And I fell in love with a Creole girl from the Lakes of Pontchartrain I said my pretty Creole girl, me money here's no good If it weren't for the alligators I'd sleep out in the wood You're welcome here kind stranger, our house it's very plain But we never turn a stranger out at the Lakes of Pontchartrain She took me to her mummy's house and she treated me quite well The hair upon her shoulders in jet black ringlets fell To try and paint her beauty I'm sure t'would be in vain So handsome was my Creole girl from the Lakes of Pontchartrain I asked her if she'd marry me, she'd said it could never be For she had got another and he was far at sea She said that she would wait for him and true she would remain 'Til he returned for his Creole girl from the Lakes of Pontchartrain So fair thee well me bonny o' girl I never see no more But I'll ne'er forget your kindness and the cottage by the shore And at each social gathering a flowin' glass I'll raise And drink a health to me Creole girl from the Lakes of Pontchartrain Top of page LANIGAN'S BALL In the town of Athy one Jeremy Lanigan Battered away 'til he hadn't a pound His father he died and made him a man again Left him a farm and ten acres of ground He gave a grand party to friends and relations Who didn't forget him when it comes to the will And if you'll but listen I'll make your eyes glisten Of the rows and the ructions of Lanigan's Ball Chorus: Six long months I spent in Dublin six long months doing nothing at all Six long months I spent in Dublin learning to dance for Lanigan's Ball Myself to be sure got free invitation For all the nice girls and boys I might ask And just in a minute both friends and relations Were dancing 'round merry as bees 'round a cask Judy O'Daly, that nice little milliner She tipped me a wink for to give her a call And I soon arrived with Peggy McGilligan Just in time for Lanigan's Ball Chorus There were lashings of punch and wine for the ladies Potatoes and cakes; there was bacon and tea There were the Nolans, Dolans, O'Gradys Courting the girls and dancing away Songs they went 'round as plenty as water "The harp that once sounded in Tara's old hall," "Sweet Nelly Gray" and "The Rat Catcher's Daughter," All singing together at Lanigan's Ball Chorus They were doing all kinds of nonsensical polkas All 'round the room in a whirligig Julia and I, we banished their nonsense And tipped them the twist of a reel and a jig 'Och mavrone, how the girls got all mad at me Danced 'til you'd think the ceiling would fall For I spent three weeks at Brooks' Academy Learning new steps for Lanigan's Ball She stepped out and I stepped in again I stepped out and she stepped in again She stepped out and I stepped in again Learning new steps for Lanigan's Ball Boys were all merry and the girls they were hearty And danced all around in couples and groups 'Til an accident happened, young Terrance McCarthy Put his right leg through miss Finnerty's hoops Poor creature fainted and cried, "Meelia murther" Called for her brothers and gathered them all Carmody swore that he'd go no further 'Til he had satisfaction at Lanigan's Ball In the midst of the row miss Kerrigan fainted Her cheeks at the same time as red as a rose Some of the lads declared she was painted She took a small drop too much, I suppose Her sweetheart, Ned Morgan, so powerful and able When he saw his fair colleen stretched out by the wall Tore the left leg from under the table And smashed all the Chaneys at Lanigan's Ball Boys, oh boys, 'twas then there were runctions Myself got a lick from big Phelim McHugh I soon replied to his introduction And kicked up a terrible hullabaloo Old Casey, the piper, was near being strangled They squeezed up his pipes, bellows, chanters and all The girls, in their ribbons, they got all entangled And that put an end to Lanigan's Ball Top of page THE LARK IN THE CLEAR AIR Dear thoughts are in my mind And my soul soars enchanted As I hear the sweet lark sing In the clear air of the day For a tender beaming smile To my hope has been granted And tomorrow she shall hear All my fond heart would say I shall tell her all my love And my soul's adoration And I think she will hear me And will not say me nay It is this that gives my soul All its joyous elation As I hear the sweet lark sing In the clear air of the day Top of page LARK IN THE MORNING The lark in the morning she arises from her nest And she ascends all in the air with the dew upon her breast And with the pretty ploughboy she'll whistle and she'll sing And at night she'll return to her own nest again When his day's work is over, oh what then will he do Perhaps then into some country wake he'll go And with his pretty sweetheart, he'll dance and he'll sing And at night he'll return with his love back again And as they returned from the wake unto the town The meadows they are mowed and the grass it is cut down The nightingale she whistles upon the hawthorn spray And the moon it is a shining upon the new mown hay Good luck unto the ploughboys wherever they may be They will take a winsome lass for to sit upon their knee And with a jug of beer boys, they'll whistle and they'll sing And the ploughboy is as happy as a prince or a king Top of page THE LASS OF AUGHRIM If you'll be the lass of Aughrim As I am taking you mean to be Tell me the first token That passed between you and me O don't you remember That night on yon lean hill When we both met together Which I am sorry now to tell The rain falls on my yellow locks And the dew it wets my skin; My babe lies cold within my arms; Lord Gregory, let me in Top of page THE LEAVING OF LIVERPOOL (1) Farewell to you, my own true love I am going far away I am bound for California But I know that I'll return some day Chorus: So fare thee well, my own true love And when I return, united we will be It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me But my darling, when I think of thee I have shipped on a Yankee sailing ship Davy Crockett is her name And Burgess is the captain of her And they say she is a floating hell Chorus Oh the sun is on the harbor love And I wish I could remain For I know it will be some long time before I see you again Chorus Top of page THE LEAVING OF LIVERPOOL (2) Farewell to Prince's Landing Stage River Mersey, fare thee well I am bound for California A place I know right well Chorus: So fare thee well, my own true love When I return united we will be It's not the leaving of Liverpool that's grieving me But my darling when I think of thee I'm bound off for California By the way of stormy Cape Horn And I'm bound to write you a letter, love When I am homeward bound I have signed on a Yankee Clipper ship Davy Crockett is her name And Burgess is the Captain of her And they say she's a floating Hell I have shipped with Burgess once before And I think I know him well If a man's a seaman, he can get along If not, then he's sure in Hell Farewell to lower Frederick Street Ensign Terrace and Park Lane For I think it will be a long, long time Before I see you again Oh the sun is on the harbor, love And I wish I could remain For I know it will be a long, long time Till I see you again Top of page THE LEGION OF THE REARGUARD Up the Republic, they raise their battle cry Pearse and McDermott will pray for you on high Eager and ready, for love of you they die Proud march the soldiers of the Rearguard Chorus: Legion of the Rearguard, answering Ireland's call Hark their martial tramp is heard from Cork to Donegal Wolfe Tone and Emmett guide you, though your task be hard De Valera leads you, soldiers of the Legion of the Rearguard Glorious the morning, through flame and shot and shell Now rally Ireland, your sons who love you well Pledged, they'll defend you, through death or prison cell Wait for the soldiers of the Rearguard Chorus Crimson the roadside, the prison wall, the cave Proof of their valour, go sleep in peace ye brave Comrade tread lightly, you're near a hero's grave Proud die the soldiers of the Rearguard Top of page LIMERICK YOU'RE A LADY Chorus: Limerick you're a lady your Shannon waters tears of joy that flow The beauty that surrounds you Ill take it with me love where-e'er I go While waking in the arms of distant waters a new day finds me far away from home And Limerick you're my lady the one true love that I have ever known As children you and I spent endless days of fun In winter's snow or summer's golden sun We fished in silver streams, the fabric of our dreams Was fashioned by your loveliness and so I have to say: The difference time has made, to travellers on their way Seeking out the beauty of our lands At shrines the children play, and bells ring out to say Thank God we're living just to feel the freedom of each day While walking in the arms of distant waters A new day finds me far away from home Top of page LITTLE GREY HOME IN THE WEST [Written in 1911] When the golden sun sinks in the west And the toil of a long day is o'er Though the road may be long, in the lilt of a song I forgot I was weary before Far ahead, where the blue shadows fall I shall come to contentment and rest And the toils of the day will be charmed away In my little grey home of the west There are hands that will welcome me in There are lips I am burning to kiss There are two eyes that shine just bacause they are mine And a thousand things other men miss It's a corner of heaven itself Though it's only a tumble-down nest But with love brooding there, why no place can compare With my little grey home in the west Top of page LORD NELSON (Tommy Makem, 1967) [Most of The Nelson Pillar was blown up by private (unknown) initiative in 1966. One week later the ugly remains of the monument were removed by the army, they too had to use explosives.] Lord Nelson stood in pompous state, upon his pillar high And down along O'Connell Street he cast a wicked eye He thought how this barbaric race had fought the British Crown Yet they were content to let him stay right there in Dublin town! Chorus: So remember Brave Lord Nelson, boys, He has never known defeat And for his reward they stuck him up In the middle of O'Connell Street! For many years, Lord Nelson stood, and no one seemed to care He would squint at Dan O'Connell who was standin right down there He thought the Irish love me or they wouldnt let me stay All except that band of blighters that they call the IRA! And then in nineteen sixty six, on March the seventh day, A bloody great explosion made Lord Nelson rock and sway! He crashed, and Dan O'Connell cried, in woeful misery Now twice as many pigeons will come and shit on me! Final chorus: So remember brave Lord Nelson, boys, He has never known defeat! And for his reward they blew him up In the middle of O'Connell Street! Top of page LORD OF THE DANCE I danced in the morning when the world was begun I danced in the moon, the stars and the sun I danced down from Heaven and I danced on Earth At Bethlehem I had my birth Chorus: Dance, then, wherever you may be I am the Lord of the Dance, said He And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be And I'll lead you all in the dance, said He I danced for the scribe and the Pharisee They would not dance; they would not follow me So I danced for the fisherman, for James and John They came with me and the dance went on I danced on the Sabbath and I cured the lame They holy people said it was a shame So they whipped, they stripped, they hung me high And they left me on the cross to die I danced on a Friday, when the sky turned black It's hard to dance with the Devil on your back Oh they buried my body, they thought I'd gone But I and the dance still go on They cut me down, but I lept on high I am the light that will never, never die But I'll live in you if you'll live in me I am the Lord of the Dance, said He Top of page |
THE IRISH NATIONAL ANTHEM
THE IRISH NATIONAL ANTHEM