Irish songs and traditional music
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Top of page MacNAMARA'S BAND Oh, me name is MacNamara I'm the leader of the band Although we're few in numbers we're the finest in the land We play at wakes and weddings and at every fancy ball And when we play at funerals we play the March From Saul Chorus: Oh, the drums go bang and the cymbals clang And the horns they blaze away McCarthy pumps the old bassoon while I the pipes do play And Hennessey Tennessee tootles the flute And the music is something grand A credit to old Ireland is MacNamara's band Right now we are rehearsin' for a very swell affair The annual celebration - all the gentry will be there When General Grant to Ireland came, he took me by the hand Says he,"I never saw the likes of MacNamara's band" Oh! My name is Uncle Yulius and from Sweden I have come To play with MacNamara's band and beat the big bass drum And when I march along the street The ladies think I'm grand They shout "There's Uncle Yulius playing with an Irish band" Oh, I wear a bunch of shamrocks and a uniform of green And I am the funniest lookin' Swede that you have ever seen There's O'Briens and Ryans and Sheehans and Meehans they come from Ireland, But by yimminy I'm the only Swede in MacNamara's band Top of page MACUSHLA (Josephine Rowe/Dermot MacMurrough) Macushla! Macushla! Your sweet voice is calling Calling me softly again and again Macushla! Macushla! I hear its dear pleading My blue eyed Macushla, I hear it in vain Macushla! Macushla! Your white arms are reaching I feel their enfolding caressing me still Fling them out from the darkness, my lost love Macushla, let them find me and bind me again if they will Macushla! Macushla! Your red lips are saying That death is a dream and love is for aye Then awaken Macushla, awake from your dreaming My blue eyed Macushla, awaken to stay Top of page MAIDS WHEN YOU'RE YOUNG An old man came courting me, hey ding a doorum dah An old man came courting me, me being young An old man came courting me, all for his wife to be Maids when you're young never wed an old man Chorus: For he's got no faloo doo rum, fal diddle oo doo rum He's got no faloo doo rum, fal diddle day He's got no faloo doo rum, lost his ding doo reeum Maids when you're young never wed an old man When this old man comes to bed, hey ding a doorum dah When this old man comes to bed, me being young When this old man comes to bed, he lays like a lump of lead Maids when you're young never wed an old man Chorus When this old man goes to sleep, hey ding a doorum dah When this old man goes to sleep, me being young When this old man goes to sleep, out of bed I do creep Into the arms of a handsome young man Chorus I wish this old man would die, hey ding a doorum dah I wish this old man would die, me being young I wish this old man would die, I'd make the money fly Girls for your sakes never wed an old man Chorus A young man is my delight, hey ding a doorum dah A young man is my delight, me being young A young man is my delight, he'll kiss you day and night Maids when you're young never wed an old man Chorus Top of page THE MAID WHO SOLD HER BARLEY It's cold and raw, the north winds blow Black in the morning early When all the hills were covered with snow Oh then it was winter fairly As I was riding o'er the moor I met a farmer's daughter Her cherry cheeks and coal-black hair They caused my heart to falter I bowed my bonnet very low To let her know my meaning She answered with a courteous smile Her looks they were engaging "Where are you bound my pretty maid It's now in the morning early?" The answer that she gave to me "Kind sir, to sell my barley" "Now twenty guineas I've in my purse And twenty more that's yearly You need not go to the market town For I'll buy all your barley If twenty guineas would gain the heart Of the maid I love so dearly All for to tarry with me one night And go home in the morning early" As I was riding o'er the moor The very evening after It was my fortune for to meet The farmer's only daughter Although the weather being cold and raw With her I thought to parlay The answer that she gave to me "Kind sir, I've sold my barley" Top of page THE MAN FROM THE DAILY MAIL Now Ireland's a very funny place, sir it's a strange and a troubled land and the Irish are a very funny race, sir every girl's in the Cumann na mBan Every doggie wears a tri-coloured ribbon tied firmly to its tail and it wouldn't be surprising if there'd be another rising, said the man from the Daily Mail Chorus: Every bird, upon my word is singing 'treble! I'm a rebel!' every hen it's said is laying hand grenades over there sir! I declare Sir! And every cock in the farmyard stock crows in triumph for the Gael and it wouldn't be surprising if there'd be another rising, said the man from the Daily Mail Now the other day I travelled down to Clare, sir I spied in an old boreen a bunch of busy gooses there, sir dressed in orange, white and green They marched to the German goose step as they whistled Grann na bheal and I'm shakin' in me shoes as I'm sending out the news, said the man from the Daily Mail Chorus Slow verse (almost spoken): Now the whole place is seething with sedition, it's Sinn Fein through and through All the peelers they are joining local units and the password's Sinn Fein too Every doggie wears a tri-coloured ribbon tied firmly to its tail and it wouldn't be surprising if there'd be another rising, said the man from the Daily Mail Top of page MANY YOUNG MEN OF TWENTY Many young men of twenty said goodbye All that long day From break of dawn until the sun was high Many young men of twenty said goodbye My boy Jimmy went that day On the big ship sailed away Sailed away and left me here to die Many young men of twenty said goodbye I met my love upon the mountain Rim The day he left I knew I bore a living child of him I knew I bore a living child of him And the child was born to me Jimmy's gone across the sea Jimmy's gone and here alone am I Many young men of twenty said goodbye My Jimmy said he'd sail across the sea He swore his oath He'd sail back home one day and marry me He'd sail back home one day and marry me But my Jimmy let me down Now they mock me in the town Oh my Jimmy please come back to me Oh my Jimmy please come back to me Many young men of twenty said goodbye All that long day From break of dawn until the sun was high Many young men of twenty said goodbye They left the mountains and the glens The lasses and the fine young men I saw the tears of every girl and boy Many young men of twenty said goodbye Top of page MC ALPINE'S FUSILIERS As down the glen came McAlpine's men with their shovels slung behind them It was in the pub that they drank their sub or down in the spike you'll find them We sweated blood and we washed down mud with quarts and pints of beer But now we're on the raod again with McAlpine's Fusiliers I stripped to the skin with Darky Finn down upon the Isle of Grain With Horseface Toole I learned the rule, no money if you stop for rain For McAlpine's god is a well filled hod with your shoulders cut to bits and seared And woe to he who looks for tea with McAlpine's Fusilers I remember the day that the Bear O'Shea fell into a concrete stair What Horseface said, when he saw him dead, well it wasn't what the rich call prayers "I'm a navvy short" was his one retort that reached into my ears When the going is rough, well you must be tough with McAlpine's Fusiliers I've worked till the sweat near had me beat with Russian, Czech and Pole At shuttering jams up in the hydro dams or underneath the Thames in a hole I grafted hard and I got me cards and many a ganger's fist across me ears If you pride your life, don't join, by Christ, with McAlpine's Fusiliers Top of page THE MEETING OF THE WATERS There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet Oh! The last rays of feeling and life must depart Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart Yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene Her purest of crystal and brightest of green 'Twas not her soft magic of streamlet or hill Oh, no! It was something more exquisite still Oh, no! It was something more exquisite still 'Twas that friends, the belov'd of my bosom were near Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear And who felt how the best charms of nature improve When we see them reflected from looks that we love When we see them reflected from looks that we love Sweet vale of Avoca! How calm could I rest In thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace Top of page THE MEN BEHIND THE WIRE Chorus: Armored cars and tanks and guns came to take away our sons! But every man must stand behind the men behind the wire! In the little streets of Belfast, in the dark of early morn British soldiers came a-running, wrecking little homes with scorn Hear the sobs of crying children, dragging fathers from their beds Watch the scenes as helpless mothers watch the blood fall from their heads Chorus Not for them a judge or jury, nor for them a crime at all Being Irish means they're guilty, so they're guilty one and all Around the world the truth will echo: Cromwell's men are here again! England's name again is sullied in the eyes of honest men Chorus Proudly march behind our banner; proudly march behind our men! We will have them free to help us build a nation once again! Come the people, step together, proudly, firmly on your way Never fear and never falter, till the boys come home to stay! Chorus Top of page THE MEN OF THE WEST When you honor in song and in story The names of the patriot men Whose valor has covered with glory Full many a mountain and glen Forget not the boys of the heather Who rallied their bravest and best When Ireland was broken in Wexford And looked for revenge to the West Chorus: I give you the gallant old West, boys Where rallied our bravest and best When Ireland lay broken and bleeding; Hurrah for the men of the West! The hilltops with glory were glowing 'Twas the eve of a bright harvest day When the ship we'd been wearily waiting Sailed into Killala's broad bay And over the hills went the slogan To awaken in every breast The fire that has never been quenched, boys Among the true hearts of the West Chorus Killala was ours ere the midnight And high over Ballina town Our banners in triumph were waving Before the next sun had gone down We gathered to speed the good work, boys The true men from near and afar And history can tell how we routed The redcoats through old Castlebar Chorus And pledge me the stout sons of France, boys Bold Humbert and all his brave men Whose tramp, like the trumpet of battle Brought hope to the drooping again Since Ireland has caught to her bosom On many a mountain and hill The gallants who fell, so they're here, boys To cheer us to victory still Chorus Though all the bright dreamings we cherished Went down in disaster and woe The spirit of old is still with us That never would bend to the foe And Connacht is ready whenever The loud rolling tuck of the drum Rings out to awaken the echoes And tell us the morning has come Chorus Top of page THE MERRY PLOUGHBOY (GREEN ON THE GREEN BOY) (Dominic Behan) I am a green on the green boy, and I'm here to sing to you And in case you didn't know it, I'm Irish thru and thru No matter where I chance to roam, over land or sea or sky Beneath the orange, white and green, for Ireland, boys, I'll die! CHORUS: We're off to Dublin in the green, in the green Where the helmets glisten in the sun Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash To the echo of a Thompson gun I am a merry ploughboy and I ploughed the fields all day Till a sudden thought came to my head that I should roam away For I'm tired of civilian life since the day that I was born So I'm off to join the IRA and I'm off tomorrow morn Alternate chorus: And we're off to Dublin with the green on the green And the bayonets glitterin' in the sun And the Tans they fly like lightnin' from The rattle of me Thompson gun! I'll leave aside my pick and spade, I'll leave aside my plough I'll leave aside my old grey mare, no more I'll need them now And I'll leave aside my Mary, she's the one that I adore I wonder if she'll think of me when she hears the rifles roar I'll take my Sharps revolver and my bandolero so And with my comrades by my side, we'll fight a foreign foe! I had a girl I left behind, and her name was Mary, dear And I hope that she proves true to me whenever I'm not near And when the war is over and dear old Ireland's free I'll take her to the church to wed and a rebel's wife she'll be Top of page MICHAEL COLLINS (written by Derek Warfield) Come listen all me true men to my simple rhyme For it tells of a young man cut off in his prime A soldier and a statesman who laid down the law, and To die by the roaside in lone Beal na Blath When barely sixteen to England crossed o'er For to work as a boy in a government store But the Volunteers call he could not disobey So he came back to Dublin to join in the fray Chorus: At Easter nineteen sixteen when Pearse called them out The men from the Dublin battalion roved out And in the post office they nobley did show How a handful of heros could outfight the foe To Stafford and jails transported they were As prisoners of England they soon made a stir Released before Christmas and home once again He banded old comrades together to train Dáil Éireann assembled, our rights to proclaim Suppressed by the English you'd think it's a shame How Ireland's best and bravest were harried and torn From the arms of their loved ones and children newborn For years Mick eluded their soldiers and spies For he was the master of clever disguise With the Custom House blazing she found t'was no use And soon Mother England had asked for a truce Oh when will the young men a sad lesson spurn That brother and brother they never should turn Alas that a split in our ranks 'ere we saw Mick Collins stretched lifeless in lone Beal na Blath Oh long will old Ireland be seeking in vain Ere we find a new leader to match the man slain A true son of Grainne his name long will shine O gallant Mick Collins cut off in his prime Top of page THE MINSTREL BOY The Minstrel Boy to the war is gone In the ranks of death you will find him His father's sword he hath girded on And his wild harp slung behind him "Land of Song!" said the warrior bard "Tho' all the world betrays thee One sword, at least, they rights shall guard One faithful harp shall praise thee!" The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain Could not bring that proud soul under The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again For he tore its chords asunder And said "No chains shall sully thee Thou soul of love and brav'ry! Thy songs were made for the pure and free, They shall never sound in slavery!" Top of page MO GHILE MEAR Seal da rabhas im' mhaighdean shéimh 'S anois im' bhaintreach chaite thréith Mo chéile ag treabhadh na dtonn go tréan De bharr na gcnoc is i n-imigcéin 'Sé mo laoch, mo Ghile Mear 'Sé mo Chaesar, Ghile Mear Suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas féin Ó chuaigh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear Bímse buan ar buaidhirt gach ló Ag caoi go cruaidh 's ag tuar na ndeór Mar scaoileadh uaim an buachaill beó 'S ná ríomhtar tuairisc uaidh, mo bhrón Ní labhrann cuach go suairc ar nóin Is níl guth gadhair i gcoillte cnó Ná maidin shamhraidh i gcleanntaibh ceoigh Ó d'imthigh uaim an buachaill beó Marcach uasal uaibhreach óg Gas gan gruaim is suairce snódh Glac is luaimneach, luath i ngleo Ag teascadh an tslua 's ag tuargain treon Seinntear stair ar chlairsigh cheoil 's líontair táinte cárt ar bord Le hinntinn ard gan chaim, gan cheó Chun saoghal is sláinte d' fhagháil dom leómhan Ghile mear 'sa seal faoi chumha 's Eire go léir faoi chlócaibh dubha Suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas féin Ó luaidh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear Top of page MOLLY MALONE (also known as COCKLES AND MUSSELS) In Dublin's fair city where the girls are so pretty I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone As she wheels her wheel barrow through the streets broad and narrow Crying cockles and mussels alive alive-o Chorus: Alive alive-o, alive alive-o Crying cockles and mussels alive alive-o She was a fishmonger but sure 'twas no wonder For so were her father and mother before And they both wheeled their barrow through streets broad and narrow Crying cockles and mussels alive alive-o She died of a fever and no one could save her And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone But her ghost wheels her barrow through streets broad and narrow Crying cockles and mussels alive alive-o Top of page THE MOUNTAIN TAY Chorus: Gather up the pots and the old tin cans The corn, the mash, the barley and the bran Run like the devil from the excise man Keep the smoke from rising, Barney Swing to left swing to the right, The excise men will dance all night, Drinkin' up the tay till the broad daylight In the hills of Connemara Oh the excise men are on their way They're hunting all around for the mountain tay Oh they won't go away for the devil of a day In the hills of Connemara Chorus Oh here's a bottle for Uncle Tom And here's a gallon for Father John To help the poor old dear along Through the hills of Connemara Well, stand your ground for it's too late The excise men are at the gate Oh, glory be to Jesus, they're drinking it straight In the hills of Connemara Chorus Top of page MOUNTAINS OF MOURNE Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight With people here working by day and by night They don't sow potatoes, nor barley, nor wheat But there' gangs of them digging for gold in the streets At least when I asked them that's what I was told So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold But for all that I found there I might as well be Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed As to how the fine ladies in London were dressed Well, if you believe me, when asked to a ball Faith, they don't wear a top to their dresses at all. Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not in truth Say if they were bound for a ball or a bath Don't be startin' them fashions now, Mary Macree Where the mountains of Mourne sweep out to the sea You remember young Peter O'Loughlin, of course Well, now he is here at the head of the force I met him today, I was crossing the Strand And he stopped the whole street with a wave of his hand And there we stood talkin' of days that are gone While the whole population of London looked on But for all these great powers he's wishful like me To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea There's beautiful girls here, oh, never you mind With beautiful shapes nature never designed And lovely complexions all roses and cream But O'Loughlin remarked with regard to the same That if at those roses you ventured to sip The colors might all come away on your lip So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea Top of page MY UNCLE IS IN THE DÁIL [Help me to replace the ?'s with the correct words: e-mail] It was at the last election that me uncle Pat got in he was always fond of politics and the ?same? I knew he'd win he made such pretty promises to the people one and all that's how he got elected as a member of the Dáil Oh, me uncle is a T.D. me boys, me uncle is a T.D. and that's the very reason why ??? ??? with me me brother was made a foreman, though he never built a wall yea, but then you'll see my uncle, he's a member of the Dáil Now, he's no good at learnin', sure he never went to school but that's no disadvantage in this country as a rule he was in the county council, but you know that ??? them all ??? my uncle, he's a member of the Dáil Oh, me uncle is a T.D. me boys, me uncle is a T.D. and that's the very reason why ??? ??? with me he got a pension for me father, though he's not blind at all yea, but then you'll see my uncle, he's a member of the Dáil Now, he's no fun to argue with, sure he's as quiet as a mouse ??? ??? up there in Leinster House he never lips with either side Fine Gael or Fianna Fáil so long as he draws a salary as a member of the Dáil Oh, me uncle is a T.D. me boys, me uncle is a T.D. and his sister's going to marry a ministers secretary she met him up in Dublin in the Gresham at a ball that's how they got aquainted through me uncle in the Dáil Now, we're the finest family that ever yet was seen we make a tidy packet from the makin' of poitin it goes across the border and up to Donegal and they drink it in the lobbies with my uncle in the Dáil Oh, me uncle is a T.D. me boys, me uncle is a T.D. and me mother got a pension at the age of forty-three for we draw family allowance though we've no kids at all yea, but then you'll see my uncle, he's a member of the Dáil Top of page NELL FLAHERTY'S DRAKE My name it is Nell, and the truth for to tell I come from Cootehill, which I'll never deny I had a large drake, and the truth for to speak My grandmother left me, and she going to die He was wholesome and sound; he weighed twenty pound And the universe 'round I would rove for his sake Bad luck to the robber, be he drunk or sober That murdered Nell Flaherty's beautiful drake His neck it was green, he was rare to be seen He was fit for a Queen of the highest degree His body so white, it would give you delight He was fat, plump and heavy, and brisk as a bee My dear little fellow, his legs, they were yellow He would fly like a swallow, and swim like a hake Until some wicked savage, to grease his white cabbage He murdered Nell Flaherty's beautiful drake May his pig never grunt, may his cat never hunt May a ghost always haunt him in the dead of the night May his hen never lay, may his ass never bray May his coat fly away like an old paper kite May the lice and the fleas the wretch ever tease May the pinching north breeze make him tremble and shake May a four-year-old bug build a nest in the lug Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's Drake May his cock never crow, may his bellows ne'er blow And a-pot or po, may he never have one May his cradle not rock, may his box have no lock May his wife have no smock to shield her back bone May his duck never quack, and his goose turn quite black And pull down the turf with his long yellow beak May scurvy and itch, not depart from the breech Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's Drake May his pipe never smoke, may his teapot be broke And to add to the joke may his kettle not boil May he lay in the bed 'till the moment he's dead May he always be fed on lob-scouse and fish oil May he swell with the gout, may his grinders fall out May he roar, bawl and shout, with the horrid toothache May his temples wear horns, and all his toes corns The monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's drake May his spade never dig, may his sow never pig Every nit on his head be as large as a snail May his house have no thatch and his door have no latch May his turkey not hatch, may the rats eat his meal May every old fairy from Cork to Dunleary Dip him in snug and easy in some pond or lake Where the eel and the trout may slime in the snout Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's Drake May his dog yelp and growl with hunger and cold May his wife always scold 'till his brain goes astray May the curse of each hag, that e'er carried a bag Alight on his nag till his beard it turns grey May monkeys still bite him, and man-apes affright him And everyone slight him asleep or awake May weasels still gnaw him, and jackdaws still claw him The monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's Drake Then all the good news l have to diffuse 'Tis for Peter Hughes, and blind Peter McFree There's big nosed Bob Manson, and buck-toothed Ned Hanson Each man has a grandson of my darling Drake My bird he had dozens of nephews and cousins And one I must get or my heart it will break To keep my mind easy or else l'll run crazy So this ends the song of Nell Flaherty's Drake Top of page NELSON'S FAREWELL (The Dubliners) Oh well, poor aul' Admiral Nelson is no longer in the air On the eighth day of March, in Dublin city fair from his stand of stones and mortar he fell crashing through the quarter where once he stood so stiff and proud and rude! So let's sing our celebration as a service to the nation so poor aul' admiral Nelson, toodle-oo! Of fifty pounds of gelignite it sped him on his way and the lad that laid the charge, we're in debt to him today! In Trafalgar Square it might be fair to leave aul' Nelson standing there but no one tells the Irish what they'll view! So the Dublin Corporation can stop deliberations for the boys of Ireland showed them what to do A hundred and fifty-seven years it stood up there in state to mark aul' Nelson's victory o'er the French and Spanish fleet But 1:30 in the morning without a bit of warning aul' Nelson took a powder, and he blew! So at last the Irish nation had Parnell in higher station than good old admiral Nelson, toodle-oo! Oh the Russians and the Yanks with their lunar probes they play and I hear the French are trying hard to make up lost headway But now the Irish join the race we have an astronaut in space! Ireland, boys, is now a world power, too! So let's sing our celebration as a service to the nation so poor aul' admiral Nelson, toodle-oo! Top of page NO IRISH NEED APPLY I'm a decent boy just landed From the town of Ballyfad I want a situation, yes And want it very bad I have seen employment advertised "It's just the thing" says I "But the dirty spalpeen ended with 'No Irish Need Apply' " "Whoa," says I, "that's an insult But to get the place I'll try" So I went to see the blackguard With his "No Irish Need Apply" Some do count it a misfortune To be christened Pat or Dan But to me it is an honor To be born an Irishman I started out to find the house, I got it mighty soon There I found the old chap seated He was reading the Tribune I told him what I came for When he in a rage did fly "No!" he says, "You are a Paddy And no Irish need apply" Then I gets my dander rising And I'd like to black his eye To tell an Irish gentleman "No Irish Need Apply" Some do count it a misfortune To be christened Pat or Dan But to me it is an honor To be born an Irishman I couldn't stand it longer So a hold of him I took And gave him such a welting As he'd get at Donnybrook He hollered, "Milia murther" And to get away did try And swore he'd never write again "No Irish Need Apply" Well he made a big apology I told him then goodbye Saying, "When next you want a beating Write 'No Irish Need Apply' " Some do count it a misfortune To be christened Pat or Dan But to me it is an honor To be born an Irishman Top of page O'DONNELL ABU (The Clan Connell War Song, M.J.McAnn circa 1843) Proudly the note of the trumpet is sounding Loudly the warcries arise on the gale Fleetly the steed by Lough Swilly is bounding To join the thick squadrons on Saimiers green vale! On every mountaineer! Stranger to flight or fear! Rush to the standard of dauntless Red Hugh! Bonnaught and Gallowglass, throng from each mountain pass! Onward for Erin! O'Donnell abu! Princely O'Neill to our aid is advancing With many a chieftain and warrior clan! A thousand proud steeds in his vanguard are prancing Neath the Borderers brave from the banks of the Bann! Many a heart shall quail under its coat of mail Deeply the merciless foeman shall rue When on his ear shall ring, borne on the breezes wing TyrConnell's dread war cry O'Donnell abu! Wildly o'er Desmond the warwolf is howling Fearless the eagle sweeps over the plain The fox in the streets of the city is prowling And all who would conquer them are banished, or slain! On with O'Donnell then! Fight the good fight again! Sons of TyrConnell are valiant and true! Make the proud Saxon feel Erin's avenging steel! Strike! For your Country! O'Donnell abu! Top of page OLD FENIAN GUN It hung above the kitchen fire. It's barrel long and brown And one day with a boy's desire, I climbed and took it down My father's eyes in anger flashed. He cried "what have you done?! I wish you'd left it where it was, That's my old Fenian gun" I fondled it with love and pride. I looked it o'er and o'er I placed it on my shoulder And I marched across the floor My father's anger softened And he shared my boyish fun "Ah, well" he said "'tis in your breed like that old Fenian gun" I remember '67 well when lads like you and me All thought we'd strike another blow to set old Ireland free But broken were our golden hopes I was long months on the run But it did good work for Ireland then that brown old Fenian gun I was down then in Killaloe t'was the hottest fight of all And you can see he burned his arm there's a mark still on the ball I hope the young lads growing now will hold the ground we won And not disgrace the cause in which I held that Fenian gun I placed it o'er the fire once more. I heard my father sigh I knew his thoughts were turning back on days now long gone by And then I vowed within my heart I'll be my father's son And if ever Ireland wants my aid I'll hold the Fenian gun That's years ago I've grown a man and I've weathered many a gale This last long year's been spent inside a gloomy English jail I've done my part I'll do it still Until the fight is won When Ireland's free she'll bless the men Who held the Fenian gun Top of page THE OLD MAN The tears have all been shed now We've said our last goodbyes His souls been blessed He's laid to rest And it's now I feel alone He was more than just a father A teacher my best friend He can still be heard In the tunes we shared When we play them on our own Chorus: I never will forget him For he made me "what I am" Though he may be gone Memories linger on And I miss him, the old man As a boy he'd take me walking By mountain field and stream And he showed me things not known to kings And secret between him and me Like the colours of the pheasant As he rises in the dawn And how to fish and make a wish Beside the Holly Tree Chorus I thought he'd live forever He seemed so big and strong But the minutes fly And the years roll by For a father and a son And suddenly when it happened There was so much left unsaid No second chance To tell him thanks For everything he's done Chorus Top of page ONLY OUR RIVERS RUN FREE (Michael MacConnell) When apples still grow in November When blossoms still bloom from each tree When leaves are still green in December It's then that our land will be free I've wandered her hills and her valleys And still through her valleys I see A land that has never known freedom And only her rivers run free I drink to the death of her manhood Those men who'd rather have died Than to live in the cold chains of bondage To bring back their rights were denied Oh, where are you know when we need you What burns where the flames used to be Are you gone like the snows of last winter And will only our rivers run free How sweet is life but we're crying How mellow the wine but we're dry How fragrant the rose but it's dying How gentle the wind but it sighs What good is in youth when it's aging What joy is in eyes that can't see When there's sorrow in sunshine and flowers And still only our rivers run free Top of page ON MIDSUMMER DAY (Murtaugh) On midsummer day in the land of Erin The war with the Firbolg about to begin Thrice nine of the children of Danu were killed In the first bloody hurl match upon the great hill For four days a terrible slaughter took place The king of the Firbolg with agonized face At the Morrigan's screaming while circling above And blood drenched the country of goddesses' love Derry down, down, down, derry down Yeokay the Firbolg was killed in his flight The hand of Nuada chopped off in the fight Tho battle was ended there was just one thing Nuada was blemished, he could not be king Avoiding occurrence of political wars The goddesses' children went to the Fomors The king of the Fomors, he sent them his son To rule Danu's children and block out the sun Derry down, down, down, derry down The name of this evil new ruler was Bres Stole most of their cattle and taxed all the rest Ogma the champion was sent to fetch wood The Dagda was forced to build forts fast as he could They suffered from insult from famine and cold Bres would not allow them their pleasures to hold The Armid, the Dianchet and Miach were known Attempting to help Nuada take back the throne Derry down... They dug up his hand and they put in place The magic was worked and the pentagrams traced Sinew to sinew and nerve to nerve fold Nuada's eyes glistened and he became whole A poet and tale teller deserved some respect I sang songs for Bres tho I didn't expect To be thrown in a dungeon, no fire, no bread A curse upon Bres was the next thing I read Derry down... No meat on the plates and no milk of the cows No money for minstrels, no homes for ourselves By hoarding and taxing he says he conserves May Bres receive what he truly deserves The magic began as the magic was said And his face became covered with blotches bright red By being a tyrant he was made a fool The result of this blemish was he could not rule Derry down... And Nuada returned to the throne once again And the children of Danu rejoiced to the end By feasting and drinking all night till we fold the triumphant children of goddess of old Top of page ON THE ONE ROAD Chorus: We're on the one road Sharing the one load We're on the road to God knows where We're on the one road It may be the wrong road But we're together now who cares North men, South men, comrades all Dublin, Belfast, Cork and Donegal We're on the one road swinging along Singing a soldier's song Though we've had our troubles now and then Now is the time to make them up again Sure aren't we all Irish anyhow Now is the time to step together now (Chorus repeat) Tinker, tailor, every mother's son Butcher, baker shouldering his gun Rich man, poor man, every man in line All together just like Old Lang Syne (Chorus repeat) Night is darkest just before the dawn From dissention Ireland is reborn Soon we'll all be United Irishmen Make our land a Nation Once Again (Chorus repeat) Top of page THE OULD WOMAN FROM WEXFORD Well, there was an old woman from Wexford And in Wexford she did well She lovered old man dearly But another one twice as well Chorus: With me tiggery tiggery-toram And me toram-toram-ta Ah one day she went to a doctor Some medicine for to find She said, 'Will ye give me something That'll make my ould man blind?' Says he, 'Give me eggs and marrow bones And make him sup them all And it won't be so very long after That he won't see you at all.' Well the doctor wrote a letter And he signed it with his hand He sent it to the ould man Just to let him understand So she fed him the eggs and the marrow bones; And she made him sup them all And it wasn't so very long after That he couldn't see the wall Says th'ould man 'I think I'll drown meself But that might be a sin.' Says she, 'I'll come along with you And I'll help to shove you in.' Well the ould woman she stood back a bit For to rush an' push him in But the ould man gently stepped aside And she went tumblin' in Oh, how lowdly she did yell And how loudly she did bawl 'Arra, hould yer whist, y'ould woman Sure I can't see you at all Ah, sure eggs, eggs and marrow bones Will make yer ould man blind But, if you want to drown him You must creep up close behind With me tiggery tiggery-toram And me toram-toram-ta With me tiggery tiggery-toram And the blind man he could see Top of page OUR LADS IN CRUMLIN JAIL In Ireland's fight for freedom, boys, the North has played her part And though her day has yet to come, we never yet must part We'll keep the fight until the end, we know we cannot fail And there's the reason why today they keep our lads in Crumlin Jail So join the fight, you volunteers, it cannot be denied That jail won't break their spirits down They'd just as soon have died for England know And England hates our fearless Northern name And that's another reason why they keep our lads in Crumlin Jail -------------------------------------------------------------- Top of page