Irish songs and traditional music
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Top of page THE SEA AROUND US They say that the lakes of Killarney are fair That no stream like the Liffey can ever compare If it's water you want, you'll find nothing more rare Than the stuff they make down by the ocean Chorus: The sea, oh the sea is the gradh geal mo croide Long may it stay between England and me It's a sure guarantee that some hour we'll be free Oh, thank God we're surrounded by water Tom Moore made his "Waters" meet fame and reknown A great lover of anything dressed in a crown In brandy the bandy old Saxon he'd drown But throw ne'er a one in the ocean The Scots have their Whisky, the Welch have their speech And their poets are paid about tenpence a week Provided no hard words on England they speak Oh Lord, what a price for devotion The Danes came to Ireland with nothing to do But dream of the plundered old Irish they slew "Yeh will in yer vikings" said Brian Boru And threw them back into the ocean Two foreign old monarchs in battle did join Each wanting his head on the back of a coin; If the Irish had sense they'd drowned both in the Boyne And partition thrown into the ocean Top of page SEAN SOUTH OF GARRYOWEN Sad are the homes 'round Garryowen Since lost their giant pride. And the banshee cry links every vale Around the Shannon side That city of the ancient walls The broken Treaty Stone, undying fame Surrounds your name - Sean South of Garryowen 'Twas on a dreary New Year's Eve As the shades of night came down A lorry load of volunteers approached a border town There were men from Dublin and from Cork Fermanagh and Tyrone But the leader was a Limerick man - Sean South from Garryowen And as they moved along the street Up to the barracks door They scorned the danger they might meet Their fate that lay in store They were fighting for old Ireland's cause To claim their very own And the foremost of that gallant band Was South of Garryowen But the sergeant spoiled their daring plan He spied them through the door The Sten guns and the rifles A hail of death did pour And when that awful night was passed Two men lay cold as stone There was one from near the border And one from Garryowen No more he will hear the seagull's cry O'er the murmuring Shannon tide For he fell beneath a northern sky Brave Hanlon by his side They have gone to join that gallant band Of Plunkett, Pearse, and Tone A martyr for old Ireland Sean South from Garryowen Top of page SEVEN DRUNKEN NIGHTS (1) As I went home on Monday night As drunk as drunk could be I saw a horse outside the door Where my old horse should be Well I called me wife and I said to her Will you kindly tell to me Who owns that horse outside the door Where my old horse should be Oh you're drunk youre drunk you silly old fool Still you cannot see That's a lovely sow that me mother sent to me Well it's many a day I've travelled A hundred miles or more But a saddle on a sow sure I never saw before And as I went home on Tuesday night As drunk as drunk could be I saw a coat behind the door Where my old coat should be Well I called me wife and I said to her Will you kindly tell to me Who owns that coat behind the door Where my old coat should be Oh you're drunk you're drunk you silly old fool Still you cannot see Thats a wollen blanket that me mother sent to me Well it's many a day I've travelled A hundred miles or more But buttons on a blanket sure I never saw before And as I went home on Wednesday night As drunk as drunk could be I saw a pipe upon the chair Where my old pipe should be Well I called me wife and I said to her Will you kindly tell to me Who owns that pipe upon the chair Where my old pipe should be Oh you're drunk you're drunk you silly old fool Still you cannot see That's a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me Well it's many a day I've travelled A hundred miles or more But tobacco in a tin whistle sure I never saw before And as I went home on Thursday night As drunk as drunk could be I saw two boots beneath the bed Where my old boots should be Well I called me wife and I said to her Will you kindly tell to me Who owns them boots beneath the bed Where my old boots should be Oh you're drunk you're drunk you silly old fool Still you cannot see They're two lovely geranium pots me mother sent to me Well it's many a day I've travelled A hundred miles or more But laces in geranium pots I never saw before And as I went home on Friday night As drunk as drunk could be I saw a head upon the bed Where my old head should be Well I called me wife and I said to her Will you kindly tell to me Who owns that head upon the bed Where me old head should be Oh you're drunk you're drunk you silly old fool Still you cannot see That's a baby boy that me mother sent to me Well it's many a day I've travelled A hundred miles or more But a baby boy with whiskers on sure I never saw before As I went home on Saturday night As drunk as drunk could be I saw two hands upon her breasts Where me two hands should be Well I called my wife and I said to her Will you kindly tell to me Who owns that hands upon your breasts Were me two hands should be Oh you're drunk you're drunk you silly old fool Still you cannot see That's a lovely night gown that me mother sent to me Well it's many a day I travelled A hundred miles and more But fingers in a night gown sure I never saw before As I went home on Sunday night As drunk as drunk could be I saw a thing in her thing Where me old thing should be Well I called my wife and I said to her Will you kindly tell to me Who owns that thing in your thing Where me old thing should be Oh you're drunk you're drunk you silly old fool Still you cannot see That's that lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me Well it's many a day I travelled A hundred miles and more But hair on a tin whistle sure I never saw before Top of page SEVEN DRUNKEN NIGHTS (2) As I went home on Monday night, as drunk as drunk could be I saw a horse outside the door, where my old horse should be I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me who owns that horse outside the door, where my old horse should be? Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see That's a lovely sow that my mother sent to me Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more but a saddle on a sow, sure, I never saw before As I went home on Tuesday night, as drunk as drunk could be I saw a coat behind the door, where my old coat should be I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me who owns that coat behind the door, where my old coat should be? Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see That's a woolen blanket that my mother sent to me Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more but buttons on a blanket, sure, I never saw before As I went home on Wednesday night, as drunk as drunk could be I saw a pipe upon the chair, where my old pipe should be I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me who owns that pipe upon the chair where my old pipe should be Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see That's a lovely tin-whistle, that my mother sent to me Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more but tobacco in a tin-whistle, sure, I never saw before As I came home on Thursday night, as drunk as drunk could be I saw two boots beside the bed, where my old boots should be I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me who owns them boots beside the bed where my old boots should be Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see They're two lovely flower pots my mother sent to me Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more but laces in flower pots I never saw before As I came home on Friday night, as drunk as drunk could be I saw a head upon the bed, where my old head should be I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me who owns that head upon the bed, where my old head should be Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see That's a baby boy, that my mother sent to me Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more but a baby boy with his whiskers on, sure, I never saw before As I came home on a Saturday night, as drunk as drunk could be I spied two hands upon her breasts, where my old hands should be I called to my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me Who's hands are these upon your breasts, where my old hands should be? Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool, and still you cannot see 'Tis nothing but a Living Bra Jane Russell gave to me Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more but fingernails on a Living Bra, I never saw before Now when I came home on Sunday night, a little after three I saw a man running out the door with his pants about his knee So I called to my wife and I said to her: would you kindly tell to me who was that man running out the door with his pants about his knee? Oh you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool, and still you cannot see Twas nothing but the tax collector the Queen sent to me Well, it's many a day I've travelled, a hundred miles or more But an Englishman that could last 'till three I never saw before Top of page THE SHORES OF AMERIKAY I'm bidding farewell to the land of my youth and the home I love so well And the mountains so grand round my own native land I'm bidding them all farewell With an aching heart I'll bid them adieu for tomorrow I'll sail far away O'er the raging foam for to seek a home on the shores of Amerikay It's not for the want of employment I'm going It's not for the love of fame That fortune bright, may shine over me and give me a glorious name It's not for the want of employment I'm going o'er the weary and stormy sea But to seek a home for my own true love on the shores of Amerikay And when I am bidding my last farewell the tears like rain will blind To think of my friends in my own native land and the home I'm leaving behind But if I'm to die in a foreign land and be buried so far far away No fond mother's tears will be shed o'er my grave on the shores of Amerikay Top of page SHULE AGRA (also called JOHNNY HAS GONE FOR A SOLDIER) With fife and drum he marched away He would not heed what I did say He'll not come back for many a day Johnny has gone for a soldier Chorus: Shule shule shule shule agra Sure a sure and he loves me When he comes back he'll marry me Johnny has gone for a soldier I'll go up on Portland hill And there I'll sit and cry my fill And every tear should turn a mill Johnny has gone for a soldier I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel I'll sell my flax and spinning wheel To buy my love a sword of steel Johnny has gone for a soldier I'll dye my petticoats crimson red Through the world I'll beg my bread I'll find my love alive or dead Johnny has gone for a soldier Top of page SKIBBEREEN (1) O, Father dear, I ofttimes heard you talk of Erin's Isle Her valleys green, her lofty scene, her mountains rude and wild You said it was a pleasant place wherein a prince might dwell Why have you then forsaken her, the reason to me tell? My son, I loved our native land with energy and pride Until a blight fell on the land and sheep and cattle died The rents and taxes were to pay, I could not them redeem And that's the cruel reason why I left Old Skibbereen It's well I do remember on a bleak November's day The landlord and his agent came to drive us all away He set my house on fire with his demon yellow spleen And that's another reason why I left Old Skibbereen Your mother, too, God rest her soul, lay on the snowy ground She fainted in her anguish of the desolation round She never rose, but went her way from life to death's long dream And found a quiet grave, my boy, in lovely Skibbereen It's well I do remember the year of forty-eight When we arose with Erin's boys to fight against our fate I was hunted through the mountains as a traitor to the Queen And that's another reason that I left Old Skibbereen Oh father dear, the day will come when vengeance loud will call And we'll arise with Erin's boys and rally one and all I'll be tbe man to lead the van, beneath our flag of green And loud and high we'll raise the cry, "Revenge for Skibbereen!" Top of page SKIBBEREEN (2) Oh father dear, I oft-times hear you speak of Erin's isle Her lofty hills, her valleys green, her mountains rude and wild They say she is a lovely land wherein a saint might dwell So why did you abandon her, the reason to me tell Oh son, I loved my native land with energy and pride Till a blight came o'er the praties; my sheep, my cattle died My rent and taxes went unpaid, I could not them redeem And that's the cruel reason why I left old Skibbereen Oh well do I remember that bleak December day The landlord and the sheriff came to take us all away They set my roof on fire with their cursed English spleen I heaved a sigh and bade goodbye to dear old Skibbereen Your mother too, God rest her soul, fell on the stony ground She fainted in her anguish seeing desolation 'round She never rose but passed away from life to immortal dream She found a quiet grave, me boy, in dear old Skibbereen And you were only two years old and feeble was your frame I could not leave you with my friends for you bore your father's name I wrapped you in my cóta mór in the dead of night unseen I heaved a sigh and bade goodbye to dear old Skibbereen Oh father dear, the day will come when in answer to the call All Irish men of freedom stern will rally one and all I'll be the man to lead the band beneath the flag of green And loud and clear we'll raise the cheer, Revenge for Skibbereen! Top of page SLANE (BE THOU MY VISION) Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart Naught be all else to me save that thou art Thou my best thought by day or by night Waking or sleeping thy presence my light Be thou my wisdom, thou my true word I ever with thee, thou with me, Lord Thou my great Father, I thy true Son Thou in me dwelling, and I with thee one Be thou my battleshield, sword for the fight Be thou my dignity, thou my delight Thou my soul's shelter, thou my high tower Raise thou me heavenward, O power of my power Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise Thou mine inheritance, now and always Thou and thou only, first in my heart High King of heavem, my treasure thou art High King of heaven, after victory won May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heaven's sun Heart of my own heart, whatever befall Still be my vision, O ruler of all Top of page SLIEVENAMON Alone, all alone, by the wave-washed strand All alone in the crowded hall The hall it is gay, and the waves they are grand But my heart is not here at all It flies far away, by night and by day To the times and the joys that are gone But I never will forget the sweet maiden I met In the valley of Slievenamon It was not the grace of her queenly aire Nor her cheek of the rose's glow Nor her soft black eyes, not her flowing hair Nor was it her lily white brow Twas the soul of truth, and of melting ruth And the smile like a summer dawn That sold my heart away on a soft summer day In the valley of Slievenamon In the festival hall, by the star-washed shore Ever my restless spirit cries "My love, oh, my love, shall I ne'er see you more And my land, will you never uprise?" By night and by day, I ever, ever pray While lonely my life flows on To see our flag unfurled and my true love to enfold In the valley of Slievenamon Top of page THE SNOWY BREASTED PEARL There's a colleen fair as May For a year and for a day I have sought by every way Her heart to gain There's no art of tongue or eye Fond youths with maidens try But I've tried with ceaseless sigh Yet tried in vain If to France or far off Spain She crossed the wat'ry main To see her face again the seas I'd brave And if it's heaven's decree That mine she'll never be May the Son of Mary me in mercy save But a kiss with welcome bland And the touch of thy fair hand Are all that I demand Would'st thou not spurn For if not mine, dear girl My snowy breasted pearl May I never from the fair With life return Top of page SPANCIL HILL Last night as I lay dreamin' Of pleasant days gone by Me mind bein' bent on travelin' To Ireland I did fly I stepped aboard a vision and followed with my will 'Til next I came to anchor At the cross near Spancil Hill Delighted by the novelty Enchanted with the scene Where in my early boyhood Where often I had been I thought I heard a murmur And think I hear it still It's the little stream of water That flows down Spancil Hill It being the 23rd of June The day before the fair Where Ireland's sons and daughters In crowds assembled there The young, the old, the brave and the bold They came for sport and kill There were jovial conversations At the cross near Spancil Hill I went to see my neighbours To hear what they might say The old ones were all dead and gone The others turning grey I met with tailor Quigley He's as bold as ever still Sure he used to make my britches When I lived in Spancil Hill I paid a flying visit To my first and only love She's white as any lily And gentle as a dove She threw her arms around me Saying Johnny I love you still She's Meg the farmers daughter And the pride of Spancil Hill I dreamt I stooped and kissed her As in the day of 'ore She said Johnny you're only joking As many the times before The cock crew in the morn' He crew both loud and shrill And I woke in California Many miles from Spancil Hill Top of page THE SPANISH LADY As I went out through Dublin City at the hour of twelve at night, Who would I see but the Spanish Lady Washing her feet by candle light First she washed them then she dried them O'er a fire of amber coals In all my life I ne'er did see a maid so sweet about the soul Chorus: Whack fol de turalura ladie Whack fol de turalureley Whack fol de turalura ladie Whack fol de turalureley As I came back through Dublin City at the time of half past eight Who would I see but the Spanish Lady Brushing her hair so trim and neat First she teased it then she brushed it On her lap was a silver comb In all my life I ne'er did see so fair a maid since I did roam Chorus As I went round old Dublin City when the sun began to set Who would I spy but the Spanish Lady Catching a moth in a golden net When she saw me quick she fled me Lifting her petticoats over her knee In all my life I ne'er did see a maid so shy as the Spanish Lady I stopped to look but the watchman passed says he "young fella now the night is late Along with you now or I will wrestle you Straight way throught the Bride-well Gate" I blew a kiss to the Spanish LAdy Hot as a fire of my angry coals In all my life I ne'er did see a maid so sweet about the soul As I went out through Dublin City as the hour of dawn was over Who shoul I see but the Spanish Lady I was lonely and footsore First she coaxed me then she chid me Then she laughed at my sad plight In all my life I ne'er did see a maid so sweet as on that night I've wandered north and I've wandered south through Stoneybatter and Patrick's Close Up and around by the Gloucester Diamond Round by Napper Tandy's house Old age had laid her hand on me Cold as fire of ashey coals But were is the lovely Spanish Lady, neat and sweet about the soul. Top of page THE SPINNING WHEEL Mellow the moonlight to shine is beginning Close by the window young Eileen is spinning Bent o'er the fire her blind grandmother sitting Crooning and moaning and drowsily knitting Merrily cheerily noiselessly whirring Spins the wheel, rings the wheel while the foot's stirring Sprightly and lightly and merrily ringing Sounds the sweet voice of the young maiden singing Eileen, a chara, I hear someone tapping 'Tis the ivy dear mother against the glass flapping Eileen, I surely hear somebody sighing 'Tis the sound mother dear of the autumn winds dying What's the noise I hear at the window I wonder? 'Tis the little birds chirping, the holly-bush under What makes you shoving and moving your stool on And singing all wrong the old song of the "Coolin"? There's a form at the casement, the form of her true love And he whispers with face bent, I'm waiting for you love Get up from the stool, through the lattice step lightly And we'll rove in the grove while the moon's shining brightly The maid shakes her head, on her lips lays her fingers Steps up from the stool, longs to go and yet lingers A frightened glance turns to her drowsy grandmother Puts her foot on the stool spins the wheel with the other Lazily, easily, now swings the wheel round Slowly and lowly is heard now the reel's sound Noiseless and light to the lattice above her The maid steps, then leaps to the arms of her lover Slower and slower... and slower the wheel swings Lower... and lower... and lower the reel rings Ere the reel and the wheel stop their ringing and moving Through the grove the young lovers by moonlight are roving Top of page STAR OF THE COUNTY DOWN (1) (Lyrics: Cathal McGarvey, a poet of the second half of the 19th century) Near to Banbridge town, in the County Down one morning in July Down a boreen green came a sweet colleen and she smiled as she passed me by Oh she looked so neat from her two white feet to the sheen of her nut-brown hair Sure the coaxing elf, I'd to shake myself to make sure I was standing there Chorus: Oh from Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay and from Galway to Dublin town No maid I've seen like the sweet colleen that I met in the County Down As she onward sped I shook my head and I gazed with a feeling queer And I said, says I, to a passer-by "Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?" Oh, he smiled at me and with pride says he: "That's the gem of Ireland's crown She's young Rosie McCann, from the banks of the Bann she's the Star of the County Down" She'd a soft brown eye and a look so sly and a smile like the rose in June And you hung on each note from her lily-white throat as she lilted an Irish tune At the pattern dance you were held in trance as she tripped through a reel or a jig And when her eyes she'd roll she'd coax upon my soul a spud from a hungry pig I've travelled a bit but never was hit since my roving career began But fair and square I surrendered thee to the charm of young Rosie McCann With a heart to let and no tenant yet did I meet within shawl or gown But in she went and I asked no rent from the Star of the County Down At the crossroads fair I'll be surely there and I'll dress in my Sunday clothes And I'll try sheep's eyes and deludering lies on the heart of the nut-brown Rose No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke though my plough with rust turns brown Till a smiling bride by my own fireside sits the Star of the County Down Top of page STAR OF THE COUNTY DOWN (2) (better lyrics) Near Banbridge town, in the County Down One morning in July Down the boreen came a sweet colleen And she smiled as she passed me by Oh, she looked so neat from her two bare feet To the crown of her nut-brown hair Such a winsome elf, that I pinched myself To be sure I was really there Chorus: From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay And from Galway to Dublin town No maid I've seen like the sweet colleen That I met in the County Down As she onward sped I shook my head And I gazed with a feeling rare And I said, says I, to a passer-by "Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?" Oh, he smiled at me, and with pride says he "That's the gem of all Ireland's crown Young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann She's the Star of the County Down" Chorus At the harvest fair she'll be surely there And I'll dress in my Sunday clothes With my shoes shined bright and my hat just right Win the heart of the nut-brown Rose No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke And my plow will rust and brown 'Til a smiling bride by my own fireside Sits the Star of the County Down Top of page STEP IT OUT MARY In the village of Kildoran lived a maiden young and fair Her eyes, they shone like diamonds, she had long and golden hair the countryman came riding up to her daddy's gate mounted on a milk-white stallion, he came at the stroke of eight Step it out Mary, my fine daughter, step it out Mary if you can Step it out Mary, my fine daughter, show your legs to the countryman I have come to court your daughter. Mary of the golden hair I have gold and I have silver, I have lands beyond compare I will buy her silks and satins and a gold ring for her hand I will buy her a mansion, she'll have servants to command Step it out Mary, my fine daughter, step it out Mary if you can Step it out Mary, my fine daughter, show your legs to the countryman Oh kind Sir I have a soldier and I've pledged to him my hand I don't want your gold nor silver, I don't want your horse nor land Mary's father spoke up sharply, you will do as you are told you'll mary him on sunday and you'll wear the ring of gold Step it out Mary, my fine daughter, step it out Mary if you can Step it out Mary, my fine daughter, show your legs to the countryman In the village of Kildoran there's a deep stream running by They found Mary there on sunday, she had drowned with soldier boy In the cottage there is music, you can hear her daddy say Step it out Mary my fine daughter, sunday is your wedding day Top of page THE STONE OUTSIDE DAN MURPHY'S DOOR There's a sweet garden spot in our memory It's the place we were born and reared It's long years ago since we left it But return there we will if we're spared Our friends and companions of childhood Would assemble each night near a store 'Round Dan Murphey's shop And how often we sat On the stone outside Dan Murphy's door Chorus: Those days in our hearts we will cherish Contented although we were poor And the songs that were sung In the days we where young On the stone outside Dan Murphy's door When our days work was over we'll meet there In the winter or spring just the same Then the boys and the girls all together Would join in some innocent game Dan Murphy would take down his fiddle While his daughter looked after the store The music did ring and sweet song we would sing On the stone outside Dan Murphy's door Back again will our thoughts often wander To the scene that were childhoods home The friends and companions we left there It was poverty caused us to roam Since then in this life we have prospered But still in our hearts we feel sore For memory will fly to the days long gone by And the stone outside Dan Murphy's door Top of page THE STREETS OF NEW YORK I was eighteen years old, when I went down to Dublin with a fistful of money and a cartload of dreams "Take your time", said me father "stop rushing like hell And remember all is not what it seems to be For there's fellows would cut you for the coat on your back Or the watch that you got from your mother So take care me young buck-o and mind yourself well And will you give this wee note to me brother" At the time Uncle Benjy was a policeman in Brooklyn And me father the youngest looked after the farm When a phone call from America said 'Send the lad over' And the ould fella said sure it wouldn't do any harm For I spoent my life working this dirty old ground For a few pints of porter and the smell of a pound And sure maybe there's something you'll learn or you'll see And you can bring it back home, make it easy on me So I landed at Kennedy and a big yellow taxi Carried me and my bags through the streets and the rain Well my poor heart was pumping around with excitement And I hardly even heard what the driver was saying We came in the short parkway to the flatlands in Brooklyn To my uncle's apartment on East 53rd I was feeling so happy I was humming a song And I sang you're as "Free as a bird" Well to shorten the story what I found out that day Was that Benjy got shot in a downtown foray And while I was flyng my way to New York Poor Benjy was lying in a cold city morgue Well I phoned up the ould fella, told him the news I could tell he could hardly stand up in his shoes And he wept as he told me, go ahead with the plan And not to forget to be a proud Irishman So I went up to Nelly's beside Fordham Road And I started to learn about lifting the load But the healthiest thing that I carried that year Was the bitter sweet thoughts of my home town so dear I went home that December 'cause the old fella died Had to borrow the money from Phil on the side And all the bright flowers and grass couldn't hide The poor wasted face of my father I sold up the old farmyard for what it was worth And into my bag stuck a handful of earth Then I boarded a train and I caught me a plane And I found myself back in the U.S. again It's been twenty-two years since I set foot in Dublin The kids know to use the correct knife and fork But I'll never forget the green grass and the rivers As I keep law and order in the streets of New York Top of page SULLIVAN'S JOHN Sullivan's John to the road you've gone, far away from your native home You've gone with the tinker's daughter far along the road to roam Sullivan's John sure you won't stick it long when your belly will soon get slack When you're roaming the road with a mighty load and a toodle box on your back I met Katey Coffey with her neat baby behind on her back strapped on She'd an old ash plant all in her hand for to drive her donkey on Enquiring at every farmer's house that along the road she passed Where would she find an old pot to mend and where would she swap an ass There's a hairy ass fair in the County Claire in a place they call Spancil Hill Where my brother James got a rap on the head and poor Paddy they tried to kill They loaded him up in an ass and cart while Kate and Mary stood by Bad luck to the day that I went away to join with the tinkers band Top of page SUMMER IN DUBLIN Take me away from the city And lead me to where I can be on my own I wanted to see you but now that I have I just want to be left alone I'll always remember your kind words And I'll still remember your name But I've seen you changing and turning And I know that things won't be the same Chorus: I remember that summer in Dublin And the Liffey it stank like hell And the young people walking on Grafton Street And everyone looking so well I was singing a song I heard somewhere Called Rock and Roll Never Forgets When my hum it was smothered by a 46A And the scream of a low-flying Jet So I jumped on a bus to Dun Laoghaire Stopping off to pick up my guitar And a drunk on the bus told me how to get rich I was glad we weren't going too far So I'm leaving on Wednesday morning Tryin' to find a place where I can hear Where the wind and the birds and the sea and the rocks And where open roads always are near And if sometimes I tire of the quiet and I want to walk back up that hill I'll just get on the road and I'll stick out my thumb I know that you'll be there still Chorus Top of page TAKE HER UP TO MONTO (1) Well if you've got a wing-o, take her up to Ring-o Where the waxies sing-o, all the day When you've had your fill of porter and you can't go any further Giveyour man the order: Back to the Quay! But first go up to Monto, Monto, Monto First go up to Monto, langeroo, to you! You've heard about Duke of Gloucester, the dirty old imposter Took a mot and lost her up in the Furry Glen He first put on his bowler and then he zipped up his trousers He whistled for his growler and says 'My man' Take me up to Monto, Monto, Monto Take me up to Monto, langeroo, to you! And when the Czar of Russia and the King of Prussia Landed in the Phoenix in a big balloon They asked the Beggarmen to play 'The Wearing of the Green' But the buggers in the lower they didn't know the tune So we took them up to Monto, Monto, Monto We took them up to Monto, langeroo, to you! Top of page TAKE HER UP TO MONTO (2) Well if you've got a wingo take her up to Ringo Where the waxies sing-o all the day If you've had your fill of porter and you can't go on any further Just give your men the order back to the quay And take her up to Monto, Monto, Monto Take her up to Monto Langeroo to you You've heard of Butcher Foster, the dirty old imposter He took a mot and lost her up the Furry Glen He first put on his bowler, then he buttoned up his trousers nd he whistled for a growler and he said 'My men Take her up to Monto, Monto, Monto... Take her up to Monto Langeroo to you The fairy told him, 'Skin the goat,' O'Donnell put him on the boat He wished he'd never been afloat, the dirty skite It wasn't very sensible to tell on the Invincibles They took aboard the principals, day and night Be goin' up to Monto, Monto, Monto...... Take her up to Monto Langeroo to you You've seen the Dublin Fusiliers, the dirty old bamboozaliers They went and got the childer, one, two, three Marchin' from the Linen Hall, there's one for every cannon ball And Vicky's goin' to send youse all o'er the sea But first go up to Monto, Monto, Monto.... Take her up to Monto Langeroo to you When the Czar of Rooshia, and the King of Prooshia Landed in the Phoenix in a big balloon They asked the Garda band to play "The Wearin' o' the Green" So they both went up to Monto, Monto, Monto..... Take her up to Monto Langeroo to you The Queen she came to call on us, she wanted to see all of us I'm glad she didn't fall on us, she's eighteen stone 'Mr. Neill, Lord Mayor,' says she, 'Is this all you've got to show to me?' 'Why no, ma'am, there's some more to see - pog mo thoin And he took her up to Monto, Monto, Monto Took her up to Monto, langeroo. Liathroidi to you Top of page TARA'S HARP [by Thomas Moore 1779-1852] The harp that once through Tara's Hall the soul of music shed Now hangs as mute on Tara's wall as if that soul were fled So sleeps the pride of former days so glory's thrill is o'er And hearts that once beat high for praise now feel that pulse no more No more to chiefs and ladies bright, the harp of Tara swells The chord alone, that breaks at night, its tale of ruin tells This freedom now so seldom wakes, the only throb she gives Is when some heart indignant breaks, to show that still she lives Top of page THEY NEVER CAME HOME (STARDUST SONG) St. Valentine's day comes around once a year All our thought turn to love as the day it draws near When sweethearts and darlings, husbands and wives Pledge love and devotion for the rest of their lives As day turns to evening soon nighttime does fall Young people preparing for the Valentine's Ball As the night rings with laughter some people still mourn The 48 children who never came home Chorus: Have we forgotten the suffering and pain the survivors and victims of the fire in Artane the mothers and fathers forever to mourn the 48 children who never came home Down to the Stardust they all made their way The bouncers stood back as they lined up to pay The records are spinning there's dancing as well Just how the fire started sure no one can tell In a matter of seconds confusion did reign The room was in darkness fire exits were chained The firefighters wept for they could not hide Their anger and sorrow for those left inside All around the city the bad news it spread There's a fire in the Stardust there's 48 dead Hundreds of children are injured and maimed And all just because the fire exits were chained Our leaders were shocked, grim statements were made They shed tears in the graveyard as the bodies were laid The victims have waited in vain for 4 years It seems like our leaders shed crocodile tears Half a million was spent on solicitor's fees A fortune to the owner and his family It's hard to believe not one penny came To the working class people who suffered the pain Days turn to weeks and weeks turn to years Our laws favour the rich or so it appears A woman still waits for her lads to come home Injustice breeds anger and that's what's been done Top of page THE THIRTY-TWO COUNTIES Here's to Donegal and her people brave and tall Here's to Antrim, to Leitrim and to Derry Here's to Cavan and to Louth, here's to Carlow in the South Here's to Longford, to Waterford, and Kerry Chorus: Then clink your glasses, clink 'Tis a toast for all to drink And let every voice join in the chorus For Ireland is our home And wherever we may roam We'll be true to the dear land that bore us Here's to Tyrone, where O'Neill long held his own Here's to Monaghan, Fermanagh and Kildare, boys! Here's to her whose stroke broke the hated Penal yoke And you know that's the brave County Clare, boys Chorus Here's to Sligo and to Down, and Armagh of old renown Here's to Kilkenny famed in story Here's to Wexford by the sea, that near set old Ireland free And here's to Royal Meath in all her glory Chorus Here's to Galway and Mayo, that never feared a foe Here's to Wicklow, its peaks and its passes Here's to Limerick famed to all for its well-defended wall And still more for the beauty of its lasses Chorus Here's to gallant Cork, the next county to New York Here's to Roscommon bright and airy Here's to Westmeath, where a tyrant scarce can breathe And here's to unconquered Tipperary Chorus Queens County too we'll toast, and Kings for both can boast They are spots the invaders got some trouble in! And now to finish up, fill a bright and brimming cup And we'll drink, boys, to jolly little Dublin! Top of page THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND (1, USA) Chorus: This land is your land, this land is my land From California to the New York Island From the redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters This land was made for you and me As I was walking that ribbon of highway I saw above me that endless highway I saw below me that golden valley This land was made for you and me I've roamed and rambled and followed my footsteps To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts And all around me, a voice is sounding: This land was made for you and me When the sun came shining and I was strolling And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling As the fog was lifting, a voice was chanting This land was made for you and me Nobody living can ever stop me As I go walking that freedom highway Nobody living can make me turn back This land was made for you and me Top of page THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND (2, IRELAND) Chorus: This land is your land, this land is my land From the northern highlands, to the western islands From the hills of Kerry, to the streets of free Derry This land was made for you and me As I went walking by the Shannon waters Hand in hand with my little daughter The church bells ringing, the children singing This land was made for you and me I climbed a mountian, saw a crystal fountain And I watched the waves roar by the rocky sea-shore Her eyes were gleaming, she cried oh oh daddy This land was made for you and me Top of page THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND (3, SCOTLAND) Chorus: This land is your land, this land my land From the English border, to the North Sea water From the Western Islands, to the Northern Highlands This land was made for you and me One summer's morning as the day was dawning I viewed the Islands on the misty skyline The rainbow fountain of the Coolin Mountains This land was made for you and me Old winter crept on as Scotland slept on No factory roaring, no oil rig oaring Just weeded byways and deserted highways Relics of the life it used to be Then I awakened to a spring day breakin' On the sons and daughters of Alba's waters And the flag they're flyin' is the rampant lion This land was made for you and me Top of page THREE LEAF SHAMROCK In the dark, a ship was anchored On a bright St Patrick's Day On the quay a lass was sighing For her lover going away In her hand she held an emblem And its small green leaves were three And her parting words were "darling Look at this and think of me" Chorus: Three leaf shamrock I adore thee You three leaves I long to see When there's brighter days in Ireland I'll come home and marry thee Just before the ship had started As she'd laid her land on mine Just before that we had parted She looked with loving eyes so kind But tonight I am an exile Far from home, and far from thee When there's brighter days in Ireland I'll go home and marry thee Top of page THE TINKER I am the bravest tinker that lives beneath the sun If you have any work to do, you shall have it well done Yes indeed you shall, don't you know you shall To my right falooral laddie, yes, indeed you shall The lady came to the door and asked me could I stop And could I mend a rusty pan that never held a drop Yes indeed I can, don't you know I can To my right falooral laddie, yes, indeed I can She took me up the stairs for to show me what to do She fell on the featherbed and I fell on it too Yes indeed I did, don't you know I did To my right falooral laddie, yes, indeed I did I put my hammer in her hand that with it she might knock To make her husband to believe that I was at my work Yes indeed I was, don't you know I was To my right falooral laddie, yes, indeed I was She put her hand into her purse and pulled out twenty pound Take this me jolly tinker and we'll have another round Yes indeed we will, don't you know we will To my right falooral laddie, yes, indeed we will Oh, I plugged her in the kitchen, I plugged her in the hall And the servants cried, The Devil, are you going to plug us all Oh indeed I'm not, don't you know I'm not To my right falooral laddie, no, indeed I'm not Well, I've been a jolly tinker these thirty years and more But such a rusty pan as that I never plugged before No indeed I didn't, don't you know I didn't To my right falooral laddie, no, indeed I didn't Top of page THE TOWN I LOVED SO WELL In my memory I will always see The town that I have loved so well Where our school played ball by the gasyard wall And we laughed through the smoke and smell Going home in the rain running up the dark lane Past the jail and down beside the fountain Those were happy days in so many many ways In the town I loved so well In the early morn the shirt factory horn Called women from Creggan, the Moor and the Bog While the men on the dole played a mothers role Fed the children and then walked the dog And when times got rough, there was just about enough But they saw it through without complaining For deep inside was a burning pride for the town I loved so well There was music there in the Derry air Like a language that we could all understand I remember the day when I earned my first pay as I played in a small pickup band There I spent my youth and to tell you the truth I was sad to leave it all behind me For I'd learned about life and I'd found a wife In the town I loved so well But when I returned how my eyes were burned To see how a town could be brought to it's knees By the armoured cars and the bombed out bars And the gas that hangs on to every breeze Now the army's installed by that old gasyard wall And the damned barbed wire gets higher and higher With their tanks and guns Oh my God, what have they done To the town I loved so well Now the music's gone but they carry on For their spirit's been bruised, never broken Oh, they'll not forget still their hearts are set On tomorrow and peace once again Now what's done is done and what's won is won And what's lost is lost and gone forever I can only pray for a bright brand new day In the town I loved so well Top of page TRI-COLOURED RIBBON I had a true love if ever a girl had one I had a true love a brave lad was he One fine Easter Monday with his gallant comrades He started away for to make Ireland free Chorus: For all around my hat I wear a tri-coloured ribbon, oh All around my hat until death comes to me And if anybody's asking me why do I wear it It's all for my own true love I never more will see He whispered "Goodbye love, old Ireland is calling High over Dublin our Tri-colour flies In the streets of the city the foe man is falling And wee birds are whistling "Old Ireland arise" His bandloier around him, his bright bayonet shining His short service rifle, a beauty to see There was joy in his eyes, though he left me repining And started away for to make Ireland free In praying and watching the dark hours passed over The roar of the guns brought no message to me I prayed for Old Ireland, I prayed for my lover That he might be safe and Old Ireland be free The struggle was ended, they brought me the story The last whispered message he sent unto me "I was true to my land, love, I fought for her glory And gave up my life for to make Ireland free" -------------------------------------------------------------- Top of page