Irish song lyrics | Besedila irskih pesmi

D

Total lyrics: 53

DRINKINGS OER RISKY

Im the lad that likes the drink the truth Ill tell to you
But times are hard I canna work Im signin on the brew
Rikki too dum day too dum day rikki rikki too dum day

One night I went into tae a pub some whiskey for tae buy
There was a wee bird there sittin by the bar so I followed her by and by
Rikki too dum day too dum day rikki rikki too dum day

And as she came up tae her close she stopped to tie her shoe
In a real nice way I said to her, Hello, miss, how are you?
Rikki too dum day too dum day rikki rikki too dum day

She took one look at me and screamed, I nearly died wi fear
And the neighbors that came runnin doon, said ye canna do that near here
Rikki too dum day too dum day rikki rikki too dum day

And then her faither he came doon and he was twenty stane
He stood ma hied right aff the wall and the whiskey went doon the drain
Rikki too dum day too dum day rikki rikki too dum day

And then there cam a polisman, the lang arm o the law
He ga me another clout that nearly broke ma jaw
Rikki too dum day too dum day rikki rikki too dum day

Now all you lads thats here the night, shun the beer and whiskey
Or else youll get your hied bashed in, for drinkings oer risky
Rikki too dum day too dum day rikki rikki too dum day
Rikki too dum day too dum day rikki rikki too dum day


THE DUBLIN FUSILIERS

Well, you've heard about the Indians with their tommy-hawks and spears
And of the U.N. warriors the heroes of recent years
Also I might mention the British Grenadiers
But, none of them were in it with the Dublin Fusiliers
You've heard about the Light Brigade and of the deeds they've done
And of the other regiments that many vic'tries won
But the pride of all the armies, Dragoons and Carabineers
Was the noble band of warriorsThe Dublin Fusiliers

Chorus:
With your left turn, right about face--this is the way we go
Chargin' with fixed bayonets, the terror of every foe
Glory to old Ireland's proudest buccaneers
And a terror to creation areThe Dublin Fusiliers

You've heard about the wars between the Russians and the Brits
The Czar one day was readin' an old copy of Tidbits
And when the General came to him and threw himself down in tears
"We'd better run back like blazes it'sThe Dublin Fusiliers
The Czar commenced to tremble and bit his upper lip
"Begorrah boys!" Sez he, "I think we'd better take a tip.
Them devils come to Dublin and to judge from what I hear,
They're demons of militia menThe Dublin Fusiliers

Chorus

Well the sergeant cried, "Get ready lads, lay down each sword and gun,
Take off your shoes and stockings boys, and when I tell yous, run."
They didn't stop but started and amidst three ringing cheers
Came a shower of bricks and bullets fromThe Dublin Fusiliers
The time that Julius Caesar tried to land down at Ringsend
The Coastguards couldn't stop 'em, so for the Dublins they did send
And just as they were landing, lads, we heard three ringin' cheers
"Get back to Rome like blazes it'sThe Dublin Fusiliers

Chorus


DUBLIN IN MY TEARS

I traveled many lands, and I still can't understand
How sad you have become on my return
Your poor heart is filled with care, sad and though they left you there
Your once bright eyes with sorrow softly burn
I can even sense the change in the sound of children's games
Childhood's dreams and youth's ambitions have all turned to doubts and fears
It's an age of wealth I'm told, but I never felt so old,
As recall old Dublin in my tears

All the faces that I meet as I rove each one way street
Reflect the empty statements of the times
And the old cathedral bell can't be heard above the swell
For the years erase the message in her chimes
All my childhood friends are gone like the streets where we were born
And the time that it has taken it doesn't seem so many years
They have faded in the gloom with sad Kelly of the Coome
Just a ghost of dear old Dublin in my tears

There were times when jobs were few, there were hungry days we knew
Some days so bad their memory I've cursed
And the prayer I said to God there on board the Prince's MOD
That our children would restore the pride we lost
But the past they all forsake and they're dancing at your wake
While the heart of Dublin's dying and nobody really cares
And the fools as they pass by, laugh to see an old man cry
But I can't forget old Dublin in my tears

Gather round brave men and true, though our numbers they be few
We'll drink one toast before I cross the foam
For soon in London's dark domain, I recall how I became
No more a stranger there than here at home
Now the Liffey flows along as I listen for her song
While the voice of young James Larkin seems to echo in my ear
But it's just the rafter ring, to their requiem I sing
Farewell to dear old Dublin in my tears
Farewell to dear old Dublin in my tears


DUBLIN IN THE RARE OULD TIMES

Raised on songs and stories, heroes of renowned
The passing tales and glories that once was Dublin Town
The hallowed halls and houses, the haunting children's rhymes
That once was Dublin City, in the rare ould times

Chorus:
Ring-a-ring-a-rosie as the light declines
I remember Dublin City in the rare ould times

Oh, my name it is Sean Dempsey, as Dublin as can be
Born hard and late in Pimlico in a house that ceased to be
By trade I was a cooper, lost out to redundancy
Like me house that fell to progress, my trade to memory

I courted Peggy Diegnan, as pretty as you please
Oh, a rogue and a child of Mary from the rebel Liberties
I lost her to a student chap, with skin as black as coal
When he took her off to Birmingham, she took away my soul

Chorus

The years have made me bitter, the gargle dims my brain
For Dublin keeps on changin' and nothing stays the same
The Pillar and the Met are gone, the Royal long since pulled
As this gray unyielding concrete makes a city of our town

Chorus

Fare thee well sweet Anna Liffey, I can no longer stay
And watch the new glass cages that spring up along the Quay
My mind's too full of memories, too old to hear new chimes
I'm part of what was Dublin, in the rare ould times

Chorus
Chorus

 


THE DUBLIN MINSTREL

From Dublin streets and roads and down the years
Came great musicians and balladeers
There was a special one, a red haired minstrel boy
And when he passed away, a city mourned its favorite son

Chorus:
All round the markets and down the quays
The sad news it spread to the Liberties
The minstrel boy is gone, he'll sing no more
And Luke somehow we know, we'll never see your likes again

He liked to laugh and sing he loved a jar
And his songs rang out in many city bars
I walk by the old canal near which he used to live
Down Raglan Road I'm sad, as he'd so much left to give

Chorus

Now the show is over, the curtain's down
A flame no longer burns in Dublin Town
While the Liffey flows beneath the Ha'penny Bridge
You'll be remembered Luke for all your songs and all you did

Chorus


THE DUBLIN RAMBLER

Chorus:
Oh, I come from around by Beggar's Bush and they call me the Dublin rambler
Cause I'm never round for very long, sure, I'm always on the go
But there's one thing that I love all right, is a pint with lads on a Sunday night
I once spent awhile in London, but soon came back to Dublin
Sang around the pubs in Liverpool, I wanted to come home

Did you ever stroll down Capel Street late on a summer's morning
Drop into Slatt's for a pint of stout, then on down to Quay
A carry-out to Kilmainham and back by the new Royal Hospital
While the T.D.'s in their new suits are often to be seen

Chorus

Have ever been to Dollymount and gazed out to the Ocean
Where the Bailey and the Hill of Hope are a wondrous sight to see
Take a ramble through St. Dan's Estate and by fair _______ Gate
Watch the young lads playing football and climbing in the tree

Chorus

Well I often go to Stephens Green for a walk among the gardens
Or to kill an hour or two I'll stop for a tune down Merrion Row
And the evening out on the town it's the chipper for the one on one
With the T.D.'s in their evening suits, it's not the place to go

Chorus


DUBLIN - TAKE ME

If you're goin' back to Dublin, take me
On a night like this there's nowhere else I 'd rather be
Just pick me up and carry me, across the Irish Sea
If you're goin' back to Dublin, take me

If I can't make it, please take my regards
To Sweeny O'Donagh, my good friend down in Rathgar
Keep a clean nose for the customs man, and a big smile for the guards
If I can't make it, please take me regards

Chorus:
Sunny days in the Wicklow Mountains, and music on Merrion Row
Rainy nights in the Gresham Hotel, oh Lord, I gotta, I gotta go

I'll meet you under the arch in Trinity around about eight
And if it don't rain I'' be waiting outside of the gate
We can go to O'Neill's and talk all night and tomorrow when heaven can wait
I'll meet you under the arch in Trinity around about eight

Chorus

If you're goin' back to Dublin, take me
On a night like this there's nowhere else I 'd rather be
Just pick me up and carry me, across the Irish Sea
If you're goin' back to Dublin, take me

Chorus

If you're goin' back to Dublin, I said, if you're goin' back to Dublin
If you're goin' back to Dublin, take me, take me, take me


DUBLIN TOWN

Memories coming back to me of Dublin boyhood dreams
The friendly names and faces that I know
Now I'm high above the ocean in an emerald colored dream
Reliving all the days of long ago

Chorus:
So fly me home sweet wings of morning
Fly me home where my soul will ever be
In my heart I hear you calling
In my mind it's my Dublin town I see

Me first communion money was a pocket full of dreams
In me brand new longers spent just like a man
Then my school boy days were over I was goin' on thirteen
When I turned to stealing kisses in the Green

And I fished for the silver perch by lochs at Sally's Bridge
Where the lazy dapple horses pulled the barge
Played relive-e-o and I boxed the fox and the darlin' kick the can
They made the boy that makes the dream a man

Chorus:
So fly me home sweet wings of morning
Fly me home where my soul will ever be
In my heart I hear you calling
In my mind it's my Dublin town I see

I'll take a walk down Merchant's Quay say a prayer for friends long gone
At the Brazen Head black porter prompts a song
Old melodies and ageless rhymes that echo o'er the swell
In harmony the lonely Angelus Bell

The happy sound of things I knew unchanging and unchanged
Dublin's past and present in my soul
Simple dreams and gentle times that loving memory span
They made the boy that makes the dream a man

Chorus
Chorus


DUBLIN YOU LIVE IN MY HEART

I was havin' a jar in O'Donoghue's Bar
When it came to my mind I'd be better by far
If I'd something to do, so I signed on the brew
The roads o'er the water are waiting for tar

Chorus:
And it's Dublin you're breakin' my heart
It's the leavin' that tears me apart
It's good-bye to the Mot and the dear family too
To the lads that I ran with and fought as I grew
And the craic in the bars and the cronies I knew
Dublin you're breakin' my heart

I went down to the Quay and I boarded the boat
And I waved to the crowd with a lump in my throat
With no work in my trade, I'd to take up the spade
I've a living to make so I shouldered my coat

Chorus
I've toiled for the English and for Scots too
Took any old job that I though I could do
And each week from me pay, a few quid for the rain
And a few bob sent home just to help them get through

Chorus

Now the good days are over, the work is all done
There's a lady in charge with a heart like a stone
When I ask for a start they say, 'Can't, have a heart'
'There's no work for our own, you'd be better at home'

Chorus


DUCKS OF MAGHERALIN

Oh it's just a year ago today I went to see the Queen
She dressed me up in satin and its colour it was green
She decked me out in medals and they were all made of tin
Ah go home sez she you crooker yer the mayor of Magheralin

Chorus:
Oh it is the finest city in the real old fashion style
A credit to the County Down the pride of the Emerald Isle
It has the finest harbour for the bread carts to sail in
And if ever to sail to Ireland you'll sail by Magheralin

Oh you've all heard of Napoleon, Napoleon Bonaparte
He conquered half of Europe but left the other part
He tired to conquer Ireland but they would not give in
And he died in St. Helena when he thought of Magheralin

Chorus

Oh you've heard of Cleopatra the treasure of the Nile
And how she conquered Tony with one alluring smile
She tired to conquer Ireland but they would not give in
And they beat her out with cabbage leaves in the town of Magheralin

Chorus

Oh you've heard of good King William, King William crossed the Boyne
With a hundred thousand balls of wax and a thousand balls of twine
And then he gave the orders for the cobblers to begin
For to make a hundred pairs of boots for the ducks of Magheralin

Chorus

Oh you've heard of Mussolini that great Italian bum
And how his troops in Africa were always on the run
You've heard of Winston Churchill he always wore a grin
For he knew the Ulster rifles were all born in Magheralin

Chorus


DUMBARTONS DRUMS

Chorus:
Dumbartons drums they sound sae bonnnie
When they remind me of my Jeannie
Such fond delight can steal upon me
When Jeannie kneels and sings tae me

Across the hills o burnin heather
Dumbarton tolls the hour o pleasure
A song of love that has no measure
When Jeanne kneels and sings tae me

Chorus:
Dumbartons drums they sound sae bonnnie
When they remind me of my Jeannie
Such fond delight can steal upon me
When Jeannie kneels and sings tae me

Its she alone who can delight me
As gracefully she doth invite me
And when her tender arms enfold me
The blackest night can turn and flee

Chorus:
Dumbartons drums they sound sae bonnnie
When they remind me of my Jeannie
Such fond delight can steal upon me
When Jeannie kneels and sings tae me
When Jeanne kneels and sings tae me
When Jeanne kneels and kisses me


THE DUNDEE GHOST 

Now a deid men seldom walks they very seldom talk
It's no very often you see them runnin aroon
But I am a refugee frae a graveyard in Dundee
And I've come tae haunt Some hooses in Glesca toon

Noo the reason I arose was tae get masel some clothes
Fur it really gets hell o' a cold below the grun (ground)

But then I whispered tae ma sel' I think I might as well
Hang aroon fur a while and have some fun

A man put out his light on a cold and wintery night
I showed him one o' ma ees (eyes) and a slapped his heid
He said Oh and I said Boo He said who the hell are you
A said don't be feared am only a man that's deid

Noo the fella knelt and prayed and this is what he said
Why in the name o' God have you picked on me
So I pulled away his rug and slapped him wan on the lug
The reason fur that I'll very soon let you see

When he brought the polis in I battered him wan on the chin
The polis turned aroon and he blamed ma fren (friend)

He marched him tae the jail, he'll be in there quite a while
But I'll see naboby steals his single end (a wee house)

The polis thought him daft and a lot o' people laughed
When the fella said a ghost wis in his hoose
But whit the fella said wis true and a might be visiting you
Fur don't forget that I'm still on the lose


THE DURHAM LOCK-OUT

In our Durham County I am sorry for to say,
That hunger and starvation is increasing every day;
For the want of food and coals we know not what to do,
But with your kind assistance we will stand the struggle through.

I need not state the reason why we have been brought so low,
The masters have behaved unkind, as everyone will know;
Because we won't lie down and let them treat us as they like,
To punish us they've stopt their pits and caused the present strike.

The pully wheels have ceased to move, which went so swift around,
The horses and the ponies too are brought from underground;
Our work is taken from us now, they care not if we die,
For they can eat the best of food and drink the best when dry.

The miner and his marra too, each morning have to roam,
To seek for bread to feed the hungry little ones at home;
the flour barrel is empty now, their true and faithful friend,
Which makes the thousands whish today the strike was at an end.

We have done our very best as honest working men,
To let the pits commence again we've offered to them ten.
the offer they will not accept, they firmly do demand
Thirteen and a half per cent, or let the collieries stand.

Let them stand or let them lie, to do with them as they choose,
To give them thirteen and a half, we ever shall refuse,
They're always willing to receive, but never inclined to give.
Very soon they won't allow a working man to live.

(With tyranny and capital they never seem content,
Unless they are endeavoring to take from us per cent.
If it was due, what they request, we willingly would grant,
We know its not, therefore we cannot give them what they want)

The miners of Northumberland we shall for ever praise,
For being so kind in helping us those tyrannizing days;
We thank the other counties too, that have been doing the same,
For every man who hears this song will know we're not to blame
.
--Tommy Armstrong, Source: Tommy Armstrong of Tyneside.,


DUSTIN'S HIACE VAN

Nineteen hundred and eighty nine was the year it all began
Dustin Hoffman, builder, bought a second-hand Hiace van
With the front seat as me saddle, and oil at my command
I set off like a cowboy in Dustin's Hiace van

It might need a new gear box, it got broke along the way
You know on that new road, the one that leads to Bray
I can't see out the winda, but I'm sure the view is very nice
Cause me vision is impaired by me big red furry dice

Chorus:
She's got tires like Kojack's head, me diesel's always red
The steering's gone, the brakes don't work at all
But north, south, east and west I know I drive the best
Get off the road it's Dustin's Hiace van
Get off the road it's Dustin's Hiace van

On my way up to Galway, I got lost along the way
I ended up in Letrim, in a B&B I had to stay
The payment was in barter, 'Can ye pay?', I sez', 'I can'
I gave her a bit of the carpet from the back of me Hiace van

Now the Lone Ranger had his Silver, Sean Kelly had his bike
Tisach had his chopper, they can all have what they like
From Terrmafeca to Maynooth, horse and jockey to Forban
You'll hear them shout, 'Get off the road, it's Dustin's Hiace Van'

Chorus:
She's got tires like Kojack's head, me diesel's always red
The steering's gone, the brakes don't work at all
But north, south, east and west I know I drive the best
Get off the road it's Dustin's Hiace van
Get off the road it's Dustin's Hiace van


THE DUTCHMAN

The Dutchman's not the kind of man, to keep his thumb jammed in the dam
That holds his dreams in, but that's the secret only Margaret knows
When Amsterdam is golden in the morning Margaret brings him breakfast
She believes him, he thinks the tulips bloom beneath the snow
He's mad as he can be, but Margaret only sees that sometimes
Sometimes she sees her unborn children in his eyes

Chorus:
Let us go to the banks of ocean,
Where the walls rise above the Zuider Zee
Long ago I used to be a young man,
And dear Margaret remembers that for me

The Dutchman still wears wooden shoes, his cap and coat are patched with love
That Margaret sowed in, sometimes he thinks he's still in Rotterdam
He watches tugboats down canals and calls out to them,
When he thinks he knows the Captain
Till Margaret comes to take him home again, through unforgiving streets
That trip him though she holds his arm
Sometimes he thinks that he's alone and calls her name

Chorus

The windmills whirl the winter in, she winds his muffler tighter
They sit in the kitchen, some tea with whiskey keeps away the dew
He sees her for a moment, calls her name she makes his bed up
Humming some old love song, she learned when the tune was very new
He hums a line or two, they hum together in the night
The Dutchman falls asleep and Margaret blows the candle out

Chorus

 

 

DANNY FARRELL

I knew Danny Farrell when his football was a can
With his hand-me-downs and welliers and his sandwiches of bran
But now that pavement peasant is a full-grown bitter man
With all the trials and troubles of his traveling people's clan

Chorus:
He's a loser, a boozer, a me and you user
A raider, a trader, a people, police hater
So lonely and only, what you'd call a gurrier
Still now, Danny Farrell, he's a man

I knew Danny Farrell when he joined the National School
He was lousy and a Gaelic, they'd call him amadán and fool
He was brilliant in the toss school by trading objects in the Pawn
By the time he was an adult all his charming ways had gone

Chorus

I knew Danny Farrell when we queued up for the dole
And he tried to hide the loss of pride that eats away the soul
But mending pots and kettles is a trade lost in the past
"There's no hand-out here for tinkers" was the answer when he asked

Chorus

Oh, I still know Danny Farrell, saw him just there yesterday
Taking mentholated spirits with some wino's on the Quay
Oh, he's forty going on eighty, with his eyes of hope bereft
And he told me this for certain, there's not many of us left

Chorus


DARBY O'LEARY

One evening of late as I happened to stray
To the County Tipperary I straight took my way
To dig the potatoes and work by the day
For a farmer called Darby O'Leary.
I asked him how far we were bound for to go
The night being dark and the cold wind did blow
I was hungry and tired and my spirits were low for
I got neither whiskey nor water.

The dirty old miser he mounted his steed
To the Galbally mountains he rode in great speed
I followed behind 'til my poor feet did bleed when
We stopped when his old horse was weary.
When we came to his cottage I entered it first
It seemed like a kennel or a ruined old church
Says I to myself I am left in the lurch
In the house of old Darby O'Leary

I well recollect it was Michalmass night
To a hearty supper he did me invite
A cup of sour milk that was more green than white
And it gave me the trotting disorder
The wet old potatoes would poison the cats
And the barn where my bed was swarming with rats
The fleas would have frightened the fearless St. Pat
Who banished the snakes o'er the border.

He worked me by day and he worked me by night,
While he held an old candle to give me some light
I wished his potatoes would die of the blight
Or himself would go off with the fairies.
It was on this old miser I looked with a frown
When the straw was brought in for to make my shakedown
And I wished I had never seen him nor his town
Nor the sky above Darby O'Leary.

I've worked in Kilconnel, I've worked in Killmore
I worked in Knoockannie and Shamballamore
In Kalisanaker and Sollahed Moore
With farmers so decent and cheery.
I've worked in Tipperary, the Rag and Ross Green
At the mount of Killfegal, the Bridge of Orleans
But such woeful starvation I never yet seen
As I got from old Darby O'Leary


DARK LOCHNAGAR

Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses,
In you let the minions of luxury rove,
Restore me the rocks where the snow-flake reposes,
Though still they are sacred to freedom and love.

Yet Caledonia, belov'd are thy mountains,
Round their white summits the elements war
Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains,
I sigh for the valley of dark Lochnagar.

Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd,
My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was my plaid.
On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd
As daily I strode thro' the pine cover'd glade.

I sought not my home till the day's dying glory
Gave place to the rays of the bright Polar star.
For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story,
Disclos'd by the natives of dark Lochnagar!

Years have roll'd on, Lochnagar, since I left you!
Years must elapse ere I tread you again.
Though nature of verdure and flow'rs has bereft you,
Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain.

England, thy beauties are tame and domestic
To one who has roamed over mountains afar
Oh! for the crags that are wild and majestic,
The steep frowning glories of dark Lochnagar.


THE D-DAY DODGERS

We're the D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy
Always on the vino, always on the spree;
Eighth Army scroungers and their tanks,
We live in Rome, among the Yanks.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy;
We are the D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy.

We landed in Salerno, a holiday with pay,
The Jerries brought the bands out to greet us on the way.
Showed us the sights and gave us tea,
We all sang songs, the beer was free
To welcome D-Day Dodgers to sunny Italy.
To welcome D-Day Dodgers to sunny Italy.

Naples and Casino were taken in our stride,
We didn't go to fight there, we went just for the ride.
Anzio and Sangro were just names,
We only went to look for dames
The artful D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy.
The artful D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy.

Dear Lady Astor, you think you're mighty hot,
Standing on the platform, talking tommyrot.
You're England's sweetheart and her pride
We think your mouth's too bleeding wide.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.

Look around the mountains, in the mud and rain,
You'll find the scattered crosses, some that have no name.
Heartbreak and toil and suffering gone,
The boys beneath them slumber on.
They are the D-Day Dodgers who stay in Italy.
They are the D-Day Dodgers who stay in Italy.


THE DEATH OF THE BEAR

The balalaika rings silent from Minsk to Red Square the cortege assembles to bury the bear
Nadia Rostropovich looks on in despair with Irina, Katrina, and Olga
And quietly remembering her brother Ivan shot in the back in Afghanistan
The Stalinist purges, the snowy white grave that claimed Boris, Dimitri and Igor

She remembered how proud she cheered with the crowd when Juri Gagarin sailed over the clouds
Nadja and Ivan shouted aloud we've put the first man in space
But that was before the feared KGB put a question mark over her own loyalty
To keep an eye on her comrades, one, two and three, Irina, Katrina and Olga

And poor uncle Vlad whom the doc declared mad for refusing to leave his beloved Leningrad
She stood in the doorway tearful and sad when they frog marched him off to the gulag
He took a last look at his own native hills where grew the red dogwood and wild daffodils
The look on his face is haunting her still Comrade Nadia Rostropovich

Sometimes alone she'd think of the west the ladies with opals adorning their breast
Park Avenue posers who behave like the czar with silver coke spoons for their caviar
She'd reflect back to when she'd just turned ten and fatefully subscribed to fair play for all men
But seventy odd years of Bolshevik dreams had worn down her pride and left her no means
To cope with her own disillusions

If Trotsky and Engels saw the Dachau's and Zills the Politburo boys with their hands in the till
The bear was long dead before he got ill was it the cure or was it the fever?
No more Reds under beds to freak out the Feds a defunct superpower in tatters and shreds
The marks left by Karl leaves them queuing for bread in the Caucasus, Baltics and Urals


DEATH COME EASY

Death come easy if you come before your time
Death come easy to a young man in his prime
They put a gun in my hand
Said, Fight for the freedom of your land
Death come easy to a young man in his prime

Life was easy I could want for nothing more
Life was easy then there came the call for war
I left my family left my home
With the army I was forced to roam
Life was easy then there came the call for war

Love was easy with my lady I would stay
Love was easy then the war took me away
Forget your love war is right
So they taught me how to kill and fight
Love was easy then the war took me away

Killing's easy with a weapon in your hand
Killing's easy and they say that war is grand
With their music and their drums
They don't see the slaughter of the guns
Killing's easy and they say that war is grand

Death come easy if you come before your time
Death come easy to a young man in his prime
They put a gun in my hand
Said, Fight for the freedom of your land
Death come easy to a young man in his prime


DEID FISH AND DIESEL

For years upon the mainland I was working like a dog
Till I took a sudden notion for the peat reek and the bog
I put my finest trousers on, a brand new pair of shoes
And with my mate, Big Sandy Tait, we headed north for Lewis

Chorus:
Deid fish and diesel it'll take your breath away
You can tell yersel by the fine like smell you're back in Stornoway
The bus from Inversnecky was a wonderful affair
The driver wore dark glasses with a white stick by his chair
He had a little microphone to tell us where we'd been
And he took us by a shortcut through Kintail and Achnasheen

Chorus

We wander round the Highlands for seven days or more
Until by chance we came upon the junction at Braemore
Big Sandy grab the driver, he said, "Here's the golden rule,
Turn right tonight if you want a fight, but it's left for Ullapool."

Chorus

We safetly reached the ferry with little time to spare
You could sense that old familiar feeling hanging in the air
The purser checked the day release we got from Creag Dunain
And we headed off across the Minch as captives of of MacBrayne

Chorus

It wasn't long before we hit the pier at Stornoway
The same old seagull sitting there as when we went away
The grass upon the rooftops and a prayer to save your soul
And the BICC overdraft to keep you on the dole

Chorus


DELIRIUM TREMENS (THE D.T.'S)

Chorus:
Good-bye to the port and brandy, to Vodka and the Stag
The Smittick and the Harpick, the bottle draught and keg
As I sat looking up at the Guinness ad I could never figure out
How you man stayed up on the surfboard after fourteen pints of stout

I dreamt a dream the other night, I couldn't sleep a wink
The rats were trying to count sheep, I was trying to get off of the drink
There was footsteps in the parlor and voices on the stairs
I was moving round walls and climbing up the chairs
Suddenly it dawned on me I was getting the old D.T.'s
When the child of Prague began to dance around the mantel piece

Chorus

I swore upon the bible, I'd never touch a drop,
Me heart was palpitating, I was sure I was goin' to stop
I fell into an awful nightmare and I got a dreadful shock
When I dreamt there was no duty free at the airport down in Knock
Ian Paisley was sayin' the rosary, S.P.U.C. were on the pill
Frank Patterson was gargled and singin' Spancil Hill

Chorus

I dreamt of original sins and venial sins and mortal sins by score
Then I tied barbed wire to my underpants and flagellated myself on the floor
Then I dreamed I was in the confession and the oul' Bishop he says to me,
'Any impure thoughts my son,' The barbed wire was killin' me

Chorus

I dreamt of Nell McCafferty and Mary Kenny, too
The things that we got up to, but I'm not goin' to tell you
I dreamt I was in a Jacuzzi with that oul' whore from number ten
Then I knew I'd never, ever, ever drink again

Chorus


THE DEPTH OF MY EGO

Chorus:
Deep in my heart and deep mind, deep in the depth of my ego
Deep in my breast, lies a treasure chest, a world that only I can know

You may criticize me, try to analyze me, put me in your little pigeon hole
I'll still hold the key to place where I am free a world that only I control

Chorus:
Deep in my heart and deep mind, deep in the depth of my ego
Deep in my breast, lies a treasure chest, a world that only I can know

I can love you dearly I can love you true
I can love you long and love you well
But I must have my own song only I can sing
My own tale that only I can tell

Chorus:
Deep in my heart and deep mind, deep in the depth of my ego
Deep in my breast, lies a treasure chest, a world that only I can know

Place me in your prison put me in your cell
Lock me up and throw away the key
I will only wander wander all around
This big world that's inside me

Chorus:
Deep in my heart and deep mind, deep in the depth of my ego
Deep in my breast, lies a treasure chest, a world that only I can know


DESTINATION O'DONOGHUE'S

I've a tener in my pocket, it's nearly half past five,
Down the Naven Road and hop upon the bus
Into City Centre and go from pub to pub.
It's Friday night in Dublin once again
We'll start off at Capel Street, some pints at Slattery's,
Then move down to the Cooper's for a jar
Cross the River Liffey and around by Trinity.
Are you certain that this next round is on me

Chorus:
Ring-a-ring-rosie and Too-ra-loo-ra loo Destination O'Donoghue's
Ring-a-ring-rosie and Too-ra-loo-ra loo will we ever reach O'Donoghue's

Now we've hit Grafton Street, we're headin' for Keogh's,
Renowned for the women and the crack
And if the saints are with us, courage compliments of Guinness
In the arms of some young one, or by barred
Well the crack it was mighty, but the barman threw us out
So it's just around the corner to McDaids
The favorite spot of Brendan Behan, so down the road a singin'
The Ould Triangle and Biddy Mulligan

Chorus

McDaids was quiet and the drink was very dear
So just one pint and then we're on our way
But Martin met these girls, these Tipperary girls
Now we're buying gin and tonics for the lot
We're on the scared mission get the holy water in 'em
Get them paralytic drunk till they can't stand
Hold the tonic, double gins, by the time the evening ends
We'll be indulging in the seven deadly sins

Chorus

They're lashin' back the liquor, our money's goin' quicker
Till every pound between us it is spent
Our last quid right out the door, Martin's past out on the floor
Now they're chattin' up some brothers from Mayo
No money in my pocket, it's nearly half past twelve
In the freezin' cold I've got a long, long walk
Back to the Naven Road, for a week I'll take it slow
Till it's Friday night in Dublin once again.

Final Chorus:
Ring-a-ring-rosie and Too-ra-loo-ra loo Destination O'Donoghue's
Ring-a-ring-rosie and Too-ra-loo-ra loo, we never reached O'Donoghue's
But next week we'll make O'Donoghue's

 

Danny Boy

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 flowers are dying 
'tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.

But come you back when summer's in the meadow 
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow 
'tis I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow 
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

And if you come, when all the flowers are dying 
And I am dead, as dead I well may be 
You'll come and find the place where I am lying 
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.

And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me 
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be 
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me 
I simply sleep in peace until you come to me.

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Do Virgins Taste Better

A dragon has come to our village today. 
We've asked him to leave, but he won't go away.
Now he's talked to our king and they worked out a deal. 
No homes will he burn and no crops will he steal. 

Now there is but one catch, we dislike it a bunch. 
Twice a year he invites him a virgin to lunch. 
Well, we've no other choice, so the deal we'll respect. 
But we can't help but wonder and pause to reflect.

Do virgins taste better than those who are not? 
Are they salty, or sweeter, more juicy or what? 
Do you savor them slowly? Gulp them down on the spot? 
Do virgins taste better than those who are not?

Now we'd like to be shed you, and many have tried. 
But no one can get through your thick scaly hide. 
We hope that some day, some brave knight will come by. 
'Cause we can't wait around 'til you're too fat to fly. 

Now you have such good taste in your women for sure, 
They always are pretty, they always are pure. 
But your notion of dining, it makes us all flinch, 
For your favorite entree is barbecued wench. 

Now we've found a solution, it works out so neat, 
If you insist on nothing but virgins to eat. 
No more will our number ever grow small, 
We'll simply make sure there's no virgins at all! 

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Donald Where's Your Trousers

I just down from the Isle of Skye 
I'm no very big but I'm awful shy 
All the lassies shout as I walk by, 
"Donald, Where's Your Trousers?"

Let the wind blow high and the wind blow low 
Through the streets in my kilt I go 
All the lassies cry, "Hello! 
Donald, where's your trousers?"

I went to a fancy ball 
It was slippery in the hall 
I was afeared that I may fall 
Because I nay had on trousers

I went down to London town 
To have a little fun in the underground 
All the Ladies turned their heads around, saying, 
"Donald, where's your trousers?"

The lassies love me every one 
But they must catch me if they can 
You canna put the brakes on a highland man, saying, 
"Donald, where's your trousers?"

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Down Among The Dead Men

Here's a health to the Queen and a lasting peace,
To faction an end, to wealth increase;
Come, let us drink it while we have breath,
For there's no drinking after death,
And he that will this health deny,

Down among the dead men,
Down among the dead men,
Down, down, down, down,
Down among the dead men let him lie.

Let charming Beauty's health go round,
In whom celestial joys are found;
And may confusion still pursue,
The senseless woman hating crew,
And they that woman's health deny;

May love and wine their joys maintain,
And their united pleasures reign;
While smiling plenty crowns the land,
We'll sing the joys that both afford:
And they that won't with us comply,

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DRUNKEN SAILOR

What will we do with a drunken sailor?
What will we do with a drunken sailor?
What will we do with a drunken sailor?
Early in the morning!

Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Early in the morning!

Shave his belly with a rusty razor,
Shave his belly with a rusty razor,
Shave his belly with a rusty razor,
Early in the morning!

Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Early in the morning!

Put him in a long boat till his sober,
Put him in a long boat till his sober,
Put him in a long boat till his sober,
Early in the morning!

Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Early in the morning!

Stick him in a barrel with a hosepipe on him,
Stick him in a barrel with a hosepipe on him,
Stick him in a barrel with a hosepipe on him,
Early in the morning!

Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Early in the morning!

Put him in the bed with the captains daughter, 
Put him in the bed with the captains daughter,
Put him in the bed with the captains daughter,
Early in the morning!

Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Early in the morning!

Thats what we do with a drunken sailor, 
Thats what we do with a drunken sailor,
Thats what we do with a drunken sailor,
Early in the morning!

Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Early in the morning!

Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Way hay and up she rises,
Early in the morning!

 

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DUNLAVIN GREEN

In the year one thousand seven hundred and ninety eight
A sorrowful tale the truth unto you I'll relate
Of thirty-six heroes to the world were left to be seen
By a false information were shot on Dunlavin Green

Bad luck to you Saunders, for you did their lives betray
You said a parade would be held on that very day
Our drums they did rattle - our fifes they did sweetly play
Surrounded we were and privately marched away

Quite easy they led us as prisoners through the town
To be slaughtered on the plain, we were then forced to kneel down
Such grief and such sorrow were never before there seen
When the blood ran in streams down the dykes of Dunlavin Green

There is young Matty Farrell has plenty of cause to complain
Also the two Duffys who were also shot down on the plain
And young Andy Ryan, his mother distracted will run
For her own brave boy, her beloved eldest son

Bad luck to you, Saunders, may bad luck never you shun!
That the widow's curse may melt you like the snow in the sun
The cries of the orphans whose murmurs you cannot screen
For the murder of their dear fathers on Dunlavin Green

Some of our boys to the hills they are going away
Some of them are shot and some of them going to sea
Micky Dwyer in the mountains to Saunders he owes a spleen
For his loyal brothers who were shot on Dunlavin Green

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DOWN ERIN'S LOVELY LEE

On March the sixth in sixty three we sailed from Queenstown Quay
A gallant band of Fenian men bound for Amerikay
While journeying with that gallant band, as you may plainly see
We were forced to go from sweet Cloghroe down Erin's lovely Lee

For six long months we ploughed the sea, from Queenstown Quay in Cork
Just like an arrow through the sky till we landed in New York
Them Yankee boys with stars and stripes came flocking down to see
That gallant band of Fenian men from Erin's lovely Lee

Then one of them stepped up to me and he asked me did I know
The hills of Tipperary or the Glen of Aherlow
Or could I tell where Crowley fell, his native land to free
And the tower that Captain Mackey sacked, down Erin's lovely Lee

He also asked me did I know where Wolfe Tone's body lay
Or could I tell the resting place of Emmet's sacred clay
What did I know of Michael Dwyer, the Wicklow mountain lion
And the three Manchester martyrs - Allen, Larkin and O'Brien

Yes I can tell where Crowley fell, 'twas in Kilclooney Wood
And the tower that Captain Mackey sacked, 'twas by his side I stood
When he gave the word, we raised the sword and made the tyrant frown
And we raised the green flag o'er our heads, the harp without the crown

When I was leaving Ireland, I passed through sweet Kildare
And if I do not now mistake, Wolfe Tone is buried there
In coming down through Dublin Town, we passed Glasnevin too
And its there young Robert Emmet lies, a patriot loyal and true

But now I'm tired of roving and the seas I will cross o'er
To feel the clasp of honest hands when I return once more
When I go home to sweet Cloghroe the boys will welcome me
And we'll help to float a Fenian boat, down Erin's lovely Lee.

 

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DOWN BY THE LIFFEYSIDE

'Twas down by Anna Liffey, my love and I did stray
Where in the good old slushy mud the sea gulls sport and play.
We got the whiff of ray and chips and Mary softly sighed,
"Oh John, come on for a wan and wan
Down by the Liffeyside."

Then down along by George's street the loving pairs to view
While Mary swanked it like a queen in a skirt of royal blue;
Her hat was lately turned and her blouse was newly dyed,
Oh you could not match her round the block,
Down by the Liffeyside.

And on her old melodeon how sweetly could she play.;
"Good-by-ee" and "Don't sigh-ee" and "Rule Brittanni-ay"
But when she turned Sinn Feiner me heart near burst with pride,
To hear her sing the "Soldier's Song",
Down by the Liffeyside.

On Sunday morning to Meath street together we will go,
And it's up to Father Murphy we both will make our vow.
We'll join our hands in wedlock bands and we'll be soon outside
For a whole afternoon, for our honeymoon,
Down by the Liffeyside.

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Doonaree

If you ever go to Ireland I'm sure you will agree
To take the road from Dublin town way down to Doonaree
'Tis there you'll find a wishing well beyond a chestnut tree
In a shady nook, by a winding brook
Will you make this wish for me
Oh to be in Doonaree with the sweetheart I once knew
To stroll in the shade of the leafy glade where the rhododendrons grew
To sit with my love on the bridge above the rippling waterfall
But to go back home never more to roam is my dearest wish of all

(BREAK)

And if you take the hilly path to the woods where bluebells grow
Where we as barefoot children played so many years ago
You'll find a slumbering castle there enshrined in memory
In a shady nook, by a winding brook
Will you make this wish for me
Oh to be in Doonaree with the sweetheart I once knew
To stroll in the shade of the leafy glade where the rhododendrons grew
To sit with my love on the bridge above the rippling waterfall
But to go back home never more to roam is my dearest wish of all
To go back home never more to roam is my dearest wish of all

 back home never more to roam is my dearest wish of all

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Donegal Danny

I remember the night that he came in
From the wintery cold and damp
A giant of a man in an oilskin coat
And a bundle that told he was a tramp
He stood at the bar and he called for a pint
And turned and gazed at the fire
On a night like this to be safe and dry, is my hearts only desire

So here's to those that are dead and gone
The friends that I love dear
And here's to you, and I'll bid you adieu
Since Donegal Danny's been here me boys,
Donegal Danny's been here

Then in a voice that was hushed and low, said listen I'll tell you a tale
How a man of the sea became a man of the roads
And never more will set sail
I've fished out of Howth and Killybegs, Ardglass and Baltimore
But the cruel sea has beaten me and I'll end my days on the shore

Chorus

One fateful night in the wind and the rain
We set sail from Killybegs town,
There were five of us from sweet Donegal
And one from County Down,
We were fishermen who worked the sea
And never counted the cost
But I never thought 'ere that night was done
That my fine friends would all be lost

Chorus

Then the storm it broke and drove the boat
To the rocks about Ten miles from shore,
As we fought the tide we hoped inside to see our homes once more
Than we struck a rock and holed the bow
And all of us knew that she'd go down
So we jumped right into the icy sea
And prayed to God we wouldn't drown

But the raging sea was rising still, as we struck out for the land
And she fought with all her cruelty, to claim that gallant band
By St John's point in the early dawn
I dragged myself on the shore
And I cursed the sea for what she'd done
And vowed to sail her never more

Chorus

Ever since that night, I've been on the road
Travelling and trying to forget
That awful night I lost all my friends, I see their faces yet
And often at night when the sea is high
And the the rain is tearing at me skin
I hear the cries of drowning men floating on the wind

Chorus X 2  (No tag)

 

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Dirty Old Town

 

I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
I kissed a girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town dirty old town
 
Clouds a drifting across the moon
Cats a prowling on their beat
Spring's a girl  in the street at night
Dirty old town dirty old town
 
Heard a si- ren from the docks
Saw a train set the night on fire
Smelled the spring in the smokey wind
Dirty old town dirty old town
 
I'm going to make a good sharp axe
Shining steel tempered in the fire
Will chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town dirty old town
 
Dirty old town dirty old town

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DELANY'S DONKEY

Now Delaney had a donkey that everyone admired,
Tempo'rily lazy and permanently tired
A leg at ev'ry corner balancing his head,
and a tail to let you know which end he wanted to be fed
Riley slyly said ""We've underrated it,
why not train it?" Then he took a rag
They rubbed it, scrubbed it, they oiled and embrocated it,
got it to the post and when the starter dropped his flag

There was Riley pushing it, shoving it, shushing it
Hogan, Logan and ev'ryone in town
lined up attacking it and shoving it and smacking it
They might as well have tried to push the Town Hall down
The donkey was eyeing them, openly defying them
Winking, blinking and twisting out of place
Riley reversing it, ev'rybody cursing it
The day Delaney's donkey ran the halfmile race

The muscles of the mighty never known to flinch,
they couldn't budge the donkey a quarter of an inch
Delaney lay exhausted, hanging round its throat
with a grip just like a Scotchman on a five pound note
Starter, Carter, he lined up with the rest of 'em.
When it saw them, it was willing then
It raced up, braced up, ready for the best of 'em.
They started off to cheer it but it changed its mind again

There was Riley pushing it, shoving it and shushing it
Hogan, Logan and Mary Ann Macgraw,
she started poking it, grabbing it and choking it
It kicked her in the bustle and it laughed ""Hee - Haw!""
The whigs, the conservatives, radical superlatives
Libr'rals and tories, they hurried to the place
Stood there in unity, helping the community
The day Delaney's donkey ran the halfmile race

The crowd began to cheer it. Then Rafferty, the judge
he came to assist them, but still it wouldn't budge
The jockey who was riding, little John MacGee,
was so thoroughly disgusted that he went to have his tea
Hagan, Fagan was students of psychology,
swore they'd shift it with some dynamite
They bought it, brought it, then without apology
the donkey gave a sneeze and blew the darn stuff out of sight

There was Riley pushing it, shoving it and shushing it
Hogan, Logan and all the bally crew,
P'lice, and auxil'ary, the Garrison Artillery
The Second Enniskillen's and the Life Guards too
They seized it and harried it, they picked it up and carried it
Cheered it, steered it to the winning place
Then the Bookies drew aside, they all commited suicide
Well, the day Delaney's donkey won the halfmile race"

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Dear Old Galway Town

I have travelled all 'round Ireland
From Dublin to Mayo
From Donegal to Kerry, from Leitrim to Sligo
But in all the miles I've travelled
All the roads that I've been down
There's one place I remember best
That's dear old Galway Town

If you ever go to Galway
And just walk down by the sea
I'm sure you will understand
Why it means so much to me
You see the smiling faces
Of the people all around
I'll not forget the folks I met
In dear old Galway Town  

When I go across to England
And meet the people there
There some from Cork and Wexford
And others are from Clare
Each one of them are friendly
But I have always found
You could not meet more nicer folk
Than those from Galway town

Chorus twice & repeat last line
Chorus

 

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DAWNING OF THE DAY, THE

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

 

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THE DAWNING OF THE DAY

God rest you Robert Emmet
And God rest you noble Tone
God rest you Hugh O'Donnell
And O'Neill of brave Tyrone
God rest you Patrick Sarsfield
In your grave far, far away
God rest you all who strove to speed
The dawning of the day

Freedom's bright and blessed day
Free from Saxon sway
Lift your hearts and pray
God speed us to the dawning of the day

Not in vain you poured you life blood
Gallant hearts of ninety-eight
Not in vain you stood undaunted
'Neath the scourge of English hate
Men of Wexford, men of Aughrin
Men whose names shall ne'er decay
But will shine like stars to lead us
To the dawning of the day

Chorus

Foreign foe and native traitor
Both have failed to quench the flame
That has guided Ireland's armies
Through the years of pride and shame
And 'twill flash the deathless glowing
Making bright the upward way
When our men shall march to freedom
At the dawning of the day

Chorus

For the fields your blood has hallowed
O you host of Irish dead
In the light of Freedom's morning
Men of Ireland yet shall tread
When the foemen reel before them
In the thunder of the fray
They shall shout your name in triumph
At the dawning of the day

Chorus

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DEAR BOSS

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

 

BAND | DISKOGRAFIJA | FOTKE | KONCERTI |BIOGRAFIJA | MEDIJI | BESEDILA | KUPI

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DEAR LITTLE SHAMROCK, THE

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

BAND | DISKOGRAFIJA | FOTKE | KONCERTI |BIOGRAFIJA | MEDIJI | BESEDILA | KUPI

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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!

 

BAND | DISKOGRAFIJA | FOTKE | KONCERTI |BIOGRAFIJA | MEDIJI | BESEDILA | KUPI

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DECOMMISSIONING SONG, THE

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 arse

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

BAND | DISKOGRAFIJA | FOTKE | KONCERTI |BIOGRAFIJA | MEDIJI | BESEDILA | KUPI

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DEVIL AND BAILIFF MCGLYNN, THE

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"

BAND | DISKOGRAFIJA | FOTKE | KONCERTI |BIOGRAFIJA | MEDIJI | BESEDILA | KUPI

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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

BAND | DISKOGRAFIJA | FOTKE | KONCERTI |BIOGRAFIJA | MEDIJI | BESEDILA | KUPI

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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

BAND | DISKOGRAFIJA | FOTKE | KONCERTI |BIOGRAFIJA | MEDIJI | BESEDILA | KUPI

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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

BAND | DISKOGRAFIJA | FOTKE | KONCERTI |BIOGRAFIJA | MEDIJI | BESEDILA | KUPI

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DOWN BY THE GLENSIDE (Bold Fenian Men)
 

'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.

When I was a young girl, their marching and drilling
Awoke in the glenside sounds awesome and thrilling
They loved poor old Ireland and to die they were willing
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

BAND | DISKOGRAFIJA | FOTKE | KONCERTI |BIOGRAFIJA | MEDIJI | BESEDILA | KUPI

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DOWN BY THE SALLEY GARDENS (Sally Gardens)

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

BAND | DISKOGRAFIJA | FOTKE | KONCERTI |BIOGRAFIJA | MEDIJI | BESEDILA | KUPI

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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?"

BAND | DISKOGRAFIJA | FOTKE | KONCERTI |BIOGRAFIJA | MEDIJI | BESEDILA | KUPI

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Dublin Town in 1962

Me kids said Dad, just tell us one more time
About when you were young and in your prime
And the way that you met Ma, all the things you saw
Tell us about the things you used to do
Well I closed my eye and rolled the years away
Everything's the same as yesterday
How could I forget the summer when we met
In Dublin town in 1962.

All the days were sunny, all the skies were blue
In Dublin town in 1962.

Oh we climbed the hill of Howth and down again
We walked home from the Pillar in the rain
We courted in the park we're the lights glow in the dark
We danced in Clery's and the Metropol to two
We crossed the Ha'penny bridge at evening tide
It felt so good to have you by my side
We watched the mailboats sail
Paperboys cried Herald or Mail
In Dublin town in 1962.

Like many more we kissed it all goodbye
We sailed away to give our luck a try
In the land across the sea that's been good to you and me
Where our children played like we once used to do
Me kids said Da that's really quite a tale
We know you have the pirit of the Gael
And we have no regrets we're very glad you met
In Dublin town in 1962.

BAND | DISKOGRAFIJA | FOTKE | KONCERTI |BIOGRAFIJA | MEDIJI | BESEDILA | KUPI

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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

BAND | DISKOGRAFIJA | FOTKE | KONCERTI |BIOGRAFIJA | MEDIJI | BESEDILA | KUPI

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