Besedila irskih pesmi | Irish song lyrics

O

O'Donnell Abu
O'er The Way
O'Reilly And The Bif McNeill
Off To Dublin In The Green
Off To Philadelphia
Old bog road, The
Old Dun Cow
Old Dungarvan Oak, The
Old elm tree, The
Old Fenian gun
Old German Clockwinder
Old Maid In The Garret, The
Old man, The
Old Pubs
Old Triangle, The
Old Women From Belfast, The
On Midsummer Day
On The Dole
On The One Road
One Last Cold Kiss
Only Our Rivers Run Free
Orange And The Green, The
Orange maid of Sligo
Ordinary Man
Oro, Oro
Ould Alarm Clock, The
Ould Orange Flute, The
Ould woman from Wexford, The
Our Lads In Crumlin Jail
Our Wedding Day
Overgate, The

Total lyrics: 31

OUR WEDDING DAY

l once had a wee lass and I loved her well,
I loved her far better than my tongue can tell,
Her parents disliked me for my want of years,
So adieu to all pleasure since I lost my dear.

Then I dreamt last night that my love came in ,
And she walked up so soft that her feet made no din.
I thought that she spoke and those words she did say,
"It won't be long now, love, till our wedding day."

Then according to promise at midnight I rose
And found nothing there but the down-folded clothes,
The sheets they were empty, as plain as you see,
And out of the window with another went she.

Oh, it's Molly, lovely Molly, what's this that you have done?
You have pulled the thistle, left the red rose behind;
The thistle will wither and decay away soon,
But the red rose will flourish in the merry month of June.

Then if l was a fisherman down by the seaside
And Molly a salmon, coming in with the tide,
I would cast out my net and catch her in a snare,
I would have lovely Molly, I vow and declare.

Or if I was an eagle and had two wings to fly,
I would fly to my love's castle and it's there I would lie,
ln a bed of green ivy l would leave myself down,
With my two folded wings I would my love surround.

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O'Reilly and the Big McNeill

The day I met O'Reilly it was 32 below;
The sparks were flying off me pick, I was up to me neck in snow.
His footsteps shook the basement slab, I saw the sky go black
As he roared out, ``I'm your ganger now, so dig until you crack.''

He was bigger than a dumper truck with legs like concrete piles,
His face was like a load of bricks, his teeth were six inch files.
His eyes, they shone like danger lamps, his hands were tough as steel,
But a man as small as that was never a match for Big McNeill.

When tea came round at dinner-time, he grabbed a gallon tin,
But I said, ``Better put that down, if you would save your skin.
You may be called O'Reilly but I will to you reveal
That the cup you've got your hands on, it belongs to Big McNeill.''

Well, he laughed at me and carried on as if I hadn't spoke.
He said, ``A man from Dublin Town can always take a joke.''
But when he picked a shovel up, wee Jimmy gave a squeal \(em
``You'd better leave that teaspoon, it belongs to Big McNeill.''

Well, everything the ganger touched we said to leave alone,
Or else McNeill would grind him up and make plaster of his bones.
At last O'Reilly lost his head and said he'd make a meal
Out of any labourer in the squad, especially Big McNeill.

We said McNeill was sick in bed and told him where to go.
The boys all downed their tools and went along to watch the show,
And when we got to Renfrew Street, wee Jimmy danced a reel,
To see him thundering at the door to fight the Big McNeill.

When the ganger got inside he saw a monster on the bed,
A mound as big as a stanchion base with a barrel size of head.
He punched it and he thumped it and he hit about with zeal,
'Til the missus cried: ``Don't hurt the child, or else I'll tell McNeill.''

He was bigger than a dumper truck
With legs like concrete piles,
His face was like a load of bricks,
His teeth were six inch files,
His eyes, they shone like danger lamps,
His hands were tough as steel,
But a man as small as that was never
A match for Big McNeill.

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OLD GERMAN CLOCKWINDER

A German clockwinder to Manchester came
And Peter Von Gherkin was the old German's name
All up our street with his little brass bell
"Some clocks for to wind," this old German would yell

I toodalum I toodalum, I toodalum I ay
I toodalum, I toodalum in the old fashioned way
I toodalum, I toodalum, I toodalum I ay
Well I winds 'em by night and I mends 'em by day
ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong

He's met a young woman in Stephenson Square
She said as her clock was in need of repair
She took him upstairs and he followed with delight
In less than ten minutes, he'd set her clock right

Now this old German was the ladies' delight
He often went to 'em by day and by night
And some went too fast-like, others went too slow
But nine out o' ten, he could make 'em all go

While they were busy at what they was at
All of a sudden there came a rat-tat
And in came her hubby who got such a shock
To see this old German winding up his wife's clock

Our clock it was bent and knocked out of repair
Well that poor old German, he got such a scare
That never, oh never, for the rest of his life
Would he wind up the clock of another man's wife

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ONE LAST COLD KISS

Two island swans, mated for life,
And his faithful heart would not consider any other wife.
For three years peaceful joy midst the rushes of the pond,
Proud and gentle was the loving of the last two island swans.

Their love was like a circle, no beginning and no end,
With his lady by his side a treasure and best friend.
The pond was all so peaceful in the rising of the sun,
Young and free at the island breeze their life had just begun.

'Till a dread day in November when the searing cold did start,
Stalked the hunter with his bow and put an arrow through her heart.
Husband come to my side let your feathers warm my pain,
For I feel I will not spend another day with you again.

And the cold winds blow,
He was brave but he's laid low.
By her body in the isle of mist,
I saw him give her one last cold kiss, one last cold kiss.

Of swans the people talk of only one in this days tide,
Through they brought him twenty ladies he would take no other bride.
They say he will not move from the place where she did fall,
Once so proud he's beaten now and he will not rise at all.

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THE ORANGE AND THE GREEN

Chorus:
It is the biggest mixed up that you have ever seen
My father he was orange, and my mother she was green

Oh, my father was an Ulsterman, proud Protestant was he
My mother was a Catholic girl from County Cork came she
They were married in two churches, lived happily enough
Until the day that I was born and things got rather tough
Chorus

Baptized by Father Reilly, then rushed away by car
To be made a little Orangeman, my father's shining star
I was christened David Anthony but still in spite of that
To my father I was William while my mother called me Pat
Chorus

With mother every Sunday to mass I'd proudly stroll
Then after that, the Orange lodge would try to save me soul
For both sides tried to claim me but I was smart, because,
I'd play the flute or play the harp depending where I was
Chorus

Now when I sing them rebel songs much to my mother's joy
My father would leap and shout, "Look here, William, my boy.
That's quite enough of that lot." He'd then toss me a coin
And have me sing King Billy and the Heroes of Boyne
Chorus

One day my ma's relations came round to visited me
Just as my father's kinfolk were all sitting down to tea
We tried to smooth things over but they all began to fight
And me being strictly neutral I bashed everyone in sight
Chorus

Now my parents never could agree about my type of school
My learning was all done at home, that's why I'm such a fool
They've both past on, God rest them, but left me caught between
The awful color problem of the Orange and Green
Chorus
Chorus

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ORDINARY MAN

I'm an ordinary man, nothing special nothing grand
I've had to work for everything I own
I never asked for a lot, I was happy with what I got,
Enough to keep my family and my home
Now they say that times are hard and they've handed me my card,
They say there's not the work to go around
When the whistle blows the gates will finally close,
Tonight they're going to shut this factory down, then they'll tear it down

I never missed a day nor went on strike for better pay,
For twenty years I served them best I could
With a handshake and a check it seems so easy to forget,
Loyalty through the bad times and the good
The owner says he's sad to see that things have got so bad,
But the Captains of Industry won't let him lose
He stills drives his car and smokes a big cigar,
Still he takes his family on a cruise, he'll never lose

Now it seems to me such a cruel irony,
He's richer now than ever he was before
Now my check is spent, I can't afford the rent,
There's one law for the rich, one for the poor
Everyday I've tried to salvage some of my pride,
To find some work so I might pay my way
But everywhere I go the answer's always no,
There's no work for anyone here today, No work today

And so condemned I stand, just an ordinary man,
Like thousands beside me in the queue
I watch my darling wife, tryin' to make the best of life,
God knows what the kids are goin' to do
Now that we are faced with this human waste,
A generation cast aside
For as long as I live I never will forgive,
You've stripped me of my dignity and pride, You've stripped me bare

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ORO, ORO

Chorus:
Oro, oro, oro Abhaile Michael
O Ro Se do Bheatha Abhaile
But find us bloody work there

From Donegal to the County Kerry,
From Belfast City to Hills of Derry
We come from Clare, from Meath and Mayo
To work across the ocean

Chorus

I see Rossleare and the Wexford Harbor
The Waterford coast with the fishing trawler
We crossed Kildare right through to Carlow
To work across the ocean

Chorus

I'm tired of leaving the hills of Galway
I'm fed up with sailing away from Dublin
We just left Limerick and Cork behind us
To work across the ocean

Chorus

I'm tired of the tears from me mother Katie
I'm fed up with leaving my sister Mary
And my father sayin, "Take it nice and easy."
When workin' across the ocean

Chorus

We don't need the pity of the politicians
With their crocodile tears and useless petitions
Just give us some work with suitable positions
Stop the exodus across the ocean

Chorus

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THE OULD ALARM CLOCK

When first I came to London in the year of thirty-nine
The city was so wonderful and he girls were so divine
But the coppers got suspicious and they soon gave me the knock
I was charged with being the owner of an ould alarm clock

Next morning down by Marlborough Street I cause no little stir
For the IRA were busy and the telephone did burr
Says the judge I'm going to charge you with the possession of this machine
And I'm also going to charge you with the wearing of the green

Now says I to him, "Your honor, if you give me half a chance"
"I'll show you how this small machine can make the polis dance"
"It ticks away politely, till you get an awful shock"
"And it ticks away the gelignite in me ould alarm clock"

The judge says, "Listen here my man and I'll tell you of my plan"
"For you and all your countrymen I do not give a damn"
"The only time you'll take is mine, ten years is Dartmoor dock"
"And you can count it by the ticking of your ould alarm clock"

This lonely Dartmoor city would put many in the jigs
Now the cell it isn't pretty and it isn't very big
I'd long ago have left the place if I had only got
Ah me couple of sticks of gelignite and me ould alarm clock

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THE OULD ORANGE FLUTE

In the County Tyrone in the town of Dungannon
Where manys the ructions meself had a hand in
Bob Williamson lived there a weaver be trade
And all of us thought him a stout Orange blade
On the twelfth of July as it yearly did come
Bob played with his flute to the sound of the drum
You talk of your harp and your piano of flute
And along with latter his ould orange flute

But Bob, the deceiver, he took us all in
He married a Papist named Bridget McGinn
Turned Papist himself and forsook the old cause
That gave us our freedom, religion and laws
Now the boys in the place made some comment upon it
And Bob had to fly to the province of Connaught
Well he fled with his wife and his fixings to boot
And along with latter his ould orange flute

At the chapel on Sundays, to atone for past deeds
He said Paters and Aves and counted his beads
Till, after some time, at the priest's own desire
Bob went with his ould flute to play in the choir
Well he went with his ould flute to play for the mass
But the instrument shivered and sighed, oh alas
And, blow as he would, though it made a great noise
The flute would play only "The protestant boys"

At the council of priests that was held the next day
They decided to banish the ould flute away
They couldn't knock heresy out of its head
So that bought Bob a new one to play in its stead
Now the ould flute was doomed and its fate was pathetic
It was fastened and burned at the stake as heretic
As the flame roared around it, sure they heard a great noise
'Twas the ould flute still playing "The protestant boys"

Too-ra-loo too-ra-lay it's six miles from Banger to Donaghadee

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THE OVERGATE

For as I gaed doon the Overgate I met a bonny wee lass
For she winked tae me with the tail o'her e'e as I went walking past
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day

I asked her what her name might be, she said: "Jemima Rose
And I live in Blaeberry Lane at the foot o'the Buchan Close."
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day

I asked her what was her landlady's name, she said it was Mrs. Bruce
And with that she invited me to come awa' to the hoose
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day

As we went up the windin' stair, them bein'long and dark
For I slipped my money from my inside pooch and I tied it to the tail o' my sark
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day

We scarcely had got in the hoose when she took me tae a room
It was there we pulled a bottle oot, and then we baith sat down
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day

But a' nicht long I dreamed I was lying in the airms o' Jemima Rose
But when I wokened I was lying on my back at the foot o' the Buchan Close
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day

Come a' ye jolly ploo men lads that gang oot for a walk
Just slip your money frae your inside pooch and tie it to the tail o' your sark.
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day

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OFF TO DUBLIN IN THE GREEN

I am a merry ploughboy and I plough the fields all day
Till a sudden thought came to my mind, that I should roam away
For I'm sick and tried of slavery, since the day that I was born
And we're off to see the IRA and we're off tomorrow morn

Chorus:
And we're all off to Dublin in the green, in the green
Where the helmets glisten in the sun
Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash
To the rattle of the Thompson gun

I'll leave aside my pick and spade, I'll leave aside my plough
I'll leave aside my horse and yoke, I no longer need them now
But I'll take my short revolver and my bandoleer all so
And with me comrades by my side, I'll face the foreign foe

Chorus

I'll leave aside my Mary, she's the girl that I adore
And I wonder will she think of me when she hears the rifles roar
And when the war is over and dear old Ireland's free
I'll take her to the church to wed and a rebel's wife she'll be

Chorus

Well some men fight for silver and some men fight for gold
But the IRA is fighting for the land that the Saxon's stole

Chorus

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OFF TO PHILADELPHIA

Oh, me name is Paddy Leary from a spot in Tipperary
The hearts of all the girls I'm a thorn in
But come the break of mornin it is they who'll be forlorn
For I'm off to Philadelphia in the morning

Chorus:
With me bundle on me shoulder, faith, there's no man can be bolder
I'm leaving dare old Ireland without warning
For I lately took the notion for to cross the briny ocean
And I'm off to Philadelphia in the morning

There's a girl named Kate Malone sure I'd hope to call me own
To see my little cabin floor adornin
But my heart is sad and weary, how can she be Mrs. Leary
When I'm off to Philadelphia in the morning

When they told me I must leave the place I tried to wear a cheerful face
To show me hearts deep sorrow I was scornin
But the tears will surely blind me for the friends I leave behind me
When I'm off to Philadelphia in the morning

Chorus:
With me bundle on me shoulder sure there's no man can be bolder
I'm leaving just the spot that I was born in
But some day I'll take the notion to come back across that ocean
To me home in dear old Ireland in the morning

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OLD MAID IN THE GARRET

I have often heard it said from me father and me mother,
That going to a wedding was the making of another.
Well if this be so, then I'll go without a bidding,
Oh kind providence won't you send me to a wedding.

Chorus:
For it's oh dear me, how will it be
If I die an old maid in the garret?

Oh now there's my sister Jean, she's not handsome or good looking'
Scarcely sixteen and a fella she was courting',
Now she's twenty four with a son and a daughter,
here am I forty-five, and I've never had an offer.

Chorus

I can cook and I can sew, I can keep the house right tidy,
Rise up in the morning and get the breakfast ready.
But there's nothing in this wide world would make me half so cheery
As a wee fat man who would call me his own dearie.

Chorus

Oh come landsman or come kinsman, come tinker or come tailor,
Come fiddler or come dancer, come ploughman or come sailor,
Come rich man come poor man, come fool or come witty,
Come any man at all who would marry me for pity

Chorus

Oh I'm away home for there's nobody heeding',
There's nobody heeding' for poor Annie's pleading',
And I'm away home to me own wee bit garret,
If I can't get a man than I'll surely get a parrot.

Chorus

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THE OLD PUBS

When I was young, a pub was a pub
With mahogany tables and a sawdust floor
Nothing fancy but plain enough
But they don't build pubs like that no more
They're pulling them down, the old pubs
Around the town, the old pubs
And the plastic's a' the go

And the landlord kept his cellar well
With a pint both heavy and strong
It was a place to share your troubles, lads
A place for a bloody good song
They're pulling them down, the old pubs
Around the town, the old pubs
And the plastic's a' the go

And weddings, funerals, births an' all
The old pubs were the best
Good times, bad times, war and peace
The old pubs stood the test
They're pulling them down, the old pubs
Around the town, the old pubs
And the plastic's a' the go

But now I'm old and things have changed
The streets are flattened down
And the people in the pubs have gone like mist
Out to the edge of town
They're pulling them down, the old pubs
Around the town, the old pubs
And the plastic's a' the go

They're pulling them down, the old pubs
Around the town, the old pubs
And the plastic's a' the go

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THE OLD TRIANGLE

Oh! a hungry feeling, it came o'er me stealing
And the mice they were squealing in my prison cell
And the ould triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal.

To begin the morning, the screw was bawling
Get up you bowsies and clean out your cell
And the ould triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal.

In the female prison there are seventy-five women
It's among them I wish I did dwell
And the ould triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal.

I wish to blazes they'd change the wages
from fifty shillings ah to two pounds ten.
Then the ould triangle, could go jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal.
All along the banks of the Royal Canal.

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THE OLD WOMEN FROM BELFAST

There was an ould woman in Belfast did dwell
Constipation was giving her hell
She went to the doctor cause she couldn't @*$#&
So he gave her a bottle to make her all right
With me nya nya toora lie ah
Oomph pa pa Oomph pa pa

Well that very night she went straight home to bed
Stood on her hands and she stood on her head
Now modesty wasn't a part of this lass
So she opened the windy and shoved out her ass
With me nya nya toora lie ah
Oomph pa pa Oomph pa pa

Now Constable Manally was doing his beat
Right at the corner of that very street
Gazing away at the stars in the sky
When a big lump of @*$#& hit him right in the eye
With me nya nya toora lie ah
Oomph pa pa Oomph pa pa

Now this chap Manally he cursed and he swore
He said taking your @*$#& you dirty ould whore
Down in the High Street you'll see him there sit
With a card round his neck saying blinded by @*$!#&
With me nya nya toora lie ah
Oomph pa pa Oomph pa pa

Well she @*$!#& all the night and she @*$!#& all the day
And they sent for the council to take it away
When the garbage men they said oh what of sight
The was mountains and mountains and mountains of @*$!#&
With me nya nya toora lie ah
Oomph pa pa Oomph pa pa

Now that is the end of this old Belfast farce
About the ould woman's undependable arse
So if ever your in Belfast especially at night
Don't mind the bullets watch for the @*$!#&
With me nya nya toora lie ah

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ON THE DOLE

I've worked hard all my life I'll tell to you no lie
Down in the local dock yards as a man and boy
But now the bosses tell me they'll have to let me go
I'm just another number I'm signing on the dole

Chorus:
On the dole, on the dole, on the dole, on the dole
It's enough to break a poor fella's heart and soul
By the time we pay the rent ma'am, the grub, the gas, the coal
Sure there isn't much left over when you're signing on the dole

Oh Mary wants a new dress and Johnny needs new shoes
And to see little Charlie's bum sticking out sure gives me the blues
Some how we'll have to manage on a couple of bob
And hope some day for better things if I can get a job

Chorus

After mass on Sunday morning through the local for a jar
I've only got about four quid it won't go very far
Then it's home to dinner of bangers, beans and mash
We used to have the Sunday roast when we had the cash

Chorus

This thing they call recession when is it going to end
It's driving innocent people half way round the bend
They say that it will take three years but that seems far away
While we struggle on the make ends meet every other day

Chorus
Repeat Chorus

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OLD DUN COW

Some friends and I in a public house
Was playing a game of chance one night
When into the pub a fireman ran
His face all a chalky white.
"What's up", says Brown, "Have you seen a ghost,
Or have you seen your Aunt Mariah?"
"Me Aunt Mariah be buggered!", says he,
"The bleedin' pub's on fire!"

And there was Brown upside down
Lappin'' up the whiskey on the floor.
"Booze, booze!" The firemen cried
As they came knockin' on the door (clap clap)
Oh don't let 'em in till it's all drunk up
And somebody shouted MacIntyre! MACINTYRE!
And we all got blue-blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire.

"Oh well," says Brown, "What a bit of luck.
Everybody follow me.
And it's down to the cellar
If the fire's not there
Then we'll have a grand old spree."
So we went on down after good old Brown
The booze we could not miss
And we hadn't been there ten minutes or more
Till we were quite pissed.

Then, Smith walked over to the port wine tub
And gave it just a few hard knocks (clap clap)
Started takin' off his pantaloons
Likewise his shoes and socks.
"Hold on, " says Brown, "that ain't allowed
Ya cannot do that thing here.
Don't go washin' trousers in the port wine tub
When we got Guinness beer."

Then there came from the old back door
The Vicar of the local church.
And when he saw our drunken ways,
He began to scream and curse.
"Ah, you drunken sods! You heathen clods!
You've taken to a drunken spree!
You drank up all the Benedictine wine
And you didn't save a drop for me!"

And then there came a mighty crash
Half the bloody roof caved in.
We were almost drowned in the firemen's hose
But still we were gonna stay.
So we got some tacks and some old wet sacks
And we nailed ourselves inside
And we sat drinking the finest Rum
Till we were bleary-eyed.

Later that night, when the fire was out
We came up from the cellar below.
Our pub was burned. Our booze was drunk.
Our heads was hanging low.
"Oh look", says Brown with a look quite queer.
Seems something raised his ire.
"Now we gotta get down to Murphy's Pub,
It closes on the hour!"

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O'DONNELL ABU

   Proudly the note of the trumpet is sounding
   Loudly the warcries arise on the gale
   Fleetly the steed by Lough Swilly is bounding
   To join the thick squadrons on Saimiers green vale!
   On every mountaineer! Stranger to flight or fear!
   Rush to the standard of dauntless Red Hugh!
   Bonnaught and Gallowglass, throng from each mountain pass!
   Onward for Erin! O'Donnell abu!

   Princely O'Neill to our aid is advancing
   With many a chieftain and warrior clan!
   A thousand proud steeds in his vanguard are prancing
   Neath the Borderers brave from the banks of the Bann!
   Many a heart shall quail under its coat of mail,
   Deeply the merciless foeman shall rue
   When on his ear shall ring, borne on the breezes wing
   TyrConnell's dread war cry O'Donnell abu!

   Wildly o'er Desmond the warwolf is howling
   Fearless the eagle sweeps over the plain
   The fox in the streets of the city is prowling
   And all who would conquer them are banished, or slain!
   On with O'Donnell then! Fight the good fight again!
   Sons of TyrConnell are valiant and true!
   Make the proud Saxon feel Erin's avenging steel!
   Strike! For your Country! O'Donnell abu!

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O'ER THE WAY

Under dark moonless sky, he rode into the night
To See his love o'er the way.
(The) smell of flowers in the air, he passed not a care
Across a bridge o'that sad day.
When a shadow stepped from the rail, from his saddle he sailed,
And his horse rode off o'er the way.
As the man was caught off guard, the shadow struck him hard
And his hopes rode off o'er the way.

O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
His hopes rode off o'er the way.
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
His hopes rode off o'er the way.

Well a fire burned inside, and he beat the brigand thrice.
The hate consumed him o'er the way.
O' the man thought he had won, until he felt the brigand's song
Grab hold o'him o'er the way.
So the thief took his revenge, and he beat the man unending
With a cat o'nine tails o'er the way.
And he shrieked to the night, bloodied by the fight,
Like a cat he shriekd o'er the way.

O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
Like a cat he shriekd o'er the way.
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
Like a cat he shriekd o'er the way.

Well the law followed that yell, saw the man lay where he fell.
Nothing left but the man's shell o'er the way.
As he layed the body to rest, the man's love clutcher her breasts
O' her heart was robbed and killed on that day.
And she breathed her last breath, and blood stained her dress
From the lashes that slew her man today.
As her body fell to the ground, there was an echoing howl
Of the hounds that howled for them o'er the way.

O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
O' the hounds that howled for them o'er the way.
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
O' the hounds that howled for them o'er the way.

O' the door closed real fast, a brigand and his cash
That he robbed with his son o'er the way.
As the counted out their change, they shouted loud, unhallowed names
For they were made rich on that day.
Then the son went for his sister, found her dead with her blist ers
And the streaks of blood o'er the way.
O' her father couldn't stand, he found a picture in her hand...
It was the man they'd killed o'er the way.

O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
It was the man they'd killed o'er the way.
O'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way, o'er the way,
It was the man they'd killed o'er the way.

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ON THE ONE ROAD

   (Chorus)
   We're on the one road
   Sharing the one load
   We're on the road to God knows where
   We're on the one road
   It may be the wrong road
   But we're together now who cares
   North men, South men, comrades all
   Dublin, Belfast, Cork and Donegal
   We're on the one road swinging along
   Singing a soldier's song

   Though we've had our troubles now and then
   Now is the time to make them up again
   Sure aren't we all Irish anyhow
   Now is the time to step together now

(Chorus repeat)

   Tinker, tailor, every mother's son
   Butcher, baker shouldering his gun
   Rich man, poor man, every man in line
   All together just like Old Land Syne

(Chorus repeat)

   Night is darkest just before the dawn
   From dissention Ireland is reborn
   Soon we'll all be United Irishmen
   Make our land a Nation Once Again

(Chorus repeat)

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ORANGE MAID OF SLIGO

On Ben Bulben's green and lofty height
The evening sun was a setting bright
It gave a ray of a golden light
Around the Bay of Sligo

A tiny craft with glancing oars
And spreading sails, the wind before
It blew the tiny craft ashore
To this, the Bay of Sligo

And at the bow there sat a girl
With lovely cheeks and flaxen curl
Her tender beauty was like a pearl
T'was the Orange maid of Sligo

And glancing o'er the vessel's side
She saw upon the water's glide
An orange lily's golden pride
Upon the Bay of Sligo

"Make haste, make haste and save that flower
I prize it more than any other
No traitor shall have it within his power
Around the Bay of Sligo"

An Orange youth then made a vow,
Brought back that flower and with a bow
Bestowed it on the lovely brow
Of the orange maid of Sligo

She soon became his lovely bride
And oft they thought at even tide
Upon that lily's golden pride
Around the Bay of Sligo

Come all true blues and fill your glass
A better toast will never pass
We'll drink unto that lovely lass
The Orange Maid of Sligo

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OLD ELM TREE, THE

There's a path by an old deserted mill.
On the banks by an old bridge. broken still,
Where the weeping willows are bending low
On the green mossy bank, where the viiolets grow.

The birds they utter their low, soft notes
In the dreams of days that are past and gone,
When Laura, my darling, sat by me.
On the green, messy bank, 'neath the old elm tree.

The birds sang sweetly 'neath the clouds above.
When she told me the tale of her heart's first love:
And ere the last rose of summer had died,
She had made me the promise to be my bride

Then came the trials of a. parting sore;
Little we thought we should meet no more;
But ere I came from the deep blue sea,
They had made her grave 'neath the old elm tree.

Cruel and harsh were the tales they told,
How my heart was false and my love had grown cold:
I had found another, more dear to me
Forgotten my promise 'neath the old elm tree.

Then her cheek grew pale with the crushed heart's pain
And her beautiful lips never smiled again:
And she bitterly wept where none could see,
She wept for the past, 'neath the old rim tree.

She died. and they parted her golden hair,
On the pale cold face of death lay there;
And they buried her where she loved best to be,
On the green, messy bank, by the old elm tree.

Laura, dear Laura, my heart's first love,
We'll meet in that happy land above;
No place on earth is so dear to me,
As the green-growing grave, 'neath the old elm tree.

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Old Dungarven Oak, The

As I went out one morning, going to Dungarven fair
I spied a pretty maiden with the sunlight in her hair
Her way was so delightful, her voice rang like a bell
And as I overtook her, I asked if she was well

Lay down your woollen shawl my love. I swear it is no joke
I'll tell to you the story, of the Old Dungarven Oak

As we approached Dungarven, the girl at me did stare
She asked me why I raised my hat, to a tree so old and bare
I told her of the legend, if the tree should ere come down
There'd be a great disaster, and Dungarven would be drowned

Lay down your woollen shawl my love. I swear it is no joke
I'll tell to you the story, of the Old Dungarven Oak

Turn Around

Well, then she started laughing, my face grew very red
She said that only fools believe, what those old legends said
Her laughter was contagious, now the truth to you I'll tell
By the time we reached the market place, I began to laugh as well

Lay down your woollen shawl my love. I swear it is no joke
I'll tell to you the story, of the Old Dungarven Oak

As I sit here by my fireside, 'tis the autumn of my life
And the darling girl I met that day, well she's now my darling wife
We have a lovely daughter, and a son to push our yoke
And it's all because I raised my hat to the Old Dungarven Oak

Lay down your woollen shawl my love. I swear it is no joke
I'll tell to you the story, of the Old Dungarven Oak
THREE TIMES

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Old Bog Road, The

My feet are here on Broadway this blessed harvest morn
But oh the ache that's in me for the spot where I was born
My weary hands are blistered from toil in cold and heat
But oh to swing a scythe today through a field of Irish wheat
If I'd the chance to wander back or own a kings abode
I'd sooner see the hawthorn tree on the old bog road

My mother died last springtime when Erin's fields were green
The neighbours said her waking was the finest ever seen
There were snowdrops and primroses all piled beside her bed
And Fern's church was crowded as her funeral mass was said
But here was I on broadway building brick by load
As they carried out her coffin down the old bog road

(Break)

Now life's a weary puzzle past finding out by man
I take the day for what it's worth and do the best I can
If no-one cares a rush for me what needs to make a moan
I'll go my way and earn my pay and smoke my pipe alone
If no-one cares a rush for me what needs to make a moan
O god be with you Ireland, and the old bog road

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OLD FENIAN GUN

It hung above the kitchen fire. It's barrel long and brown
And one day with a boy's desire, I climbed and took it down
My father's eyes in anger flashed. He cried "what have you done?!
I wish you'd left it where it was, That's my old Fenian gun"

I fondled it with love and pride. I looked it o'er and o'er
I placed it on my shoulder And I marched across the floor
My father's anger softened And he shared my boyish fun
"Ah, well" he said "'tis in your breed like that old Fenian gun"

I remember '67 well when lads like you and me
All thought we'd strike another blow to set old Ireland free
But broken were our golden hopes I was long months on the run
But it did good work for Ireland then that brown old Fenian gun

I was down then in Killaloe t'was the hottest fight of all
And you can see he burned his arm there's a mark still on the ball
I hope the young lads growing now will hold the ground we won
And not disgrace the cause in which I held that Fenian gun

I placed it o'er the fire once more. I heard my father sigh
I knew his thoughts were turning back on days now long gone by
And then I vowed within my heart I'll be my father's son
And if ever Ireland wants my aid I'll hold the Fenian gun

That's years ago I've grown a man and I've weathered many a gale
This last long year's been spent inside a gloomy English jail
I've done my part I'll do it still Until the fight is won
When Ireland's free she'll bless the men Who held the Fenian gun

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OLD MAN, THE

The tears have all been shed now
We've said our last goodbyes
His souls been blessed
He's laid to rest
And it's now I feel alone
He was more than just a father
A teacher my best friend
He can still be heard
In the tunes we shared
When we play them on our own

Chorus:
I never will forget him
For he made me "what I am"
Though he may be gone
Memories linger on
And I miss him, the old man

As a boy he'd take me walking
By mountain field and stream
And he showed me things
not known to kings
And secret between him and me
Like the colours of the pheasant
As he rises in the dawn
And how to fish and make a wish
Beside the Holly Tree

Chorus

I thought he'd live forever
He seemed so big and strong
But the minutes fly
And the years roll by
For a father and a son
And suddenly when it happened
There was so much left unsaid
No second chance
To tell him thanks
For everything he's done

Chorus

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ONLY OUR RIVERS RUN FREE

When apples still grow in November
When blossoms still bloom from each tree
When leaves are still green in December
It's then that our land will be free
I've wandered her hills and her valleys
And still through her valleys I see
A land that has never known freedom
And only her rivers run free

I drink to the death of her manhood
Those men who'd rather have died
Than to live in the cold chains of bondage
To bring back their rights were denied
Oh, where are you know when we need you
What burns where the flames used to be
Are you gone like the snows of last winter
And will only our rivers run free

How sweet is life but we're crying
How mellow the wine but we're dry
How fragrant the rose but it's dying
How gentle the wind but it sighs
What good is in youth when it's aging
What joy is in eyes that can't see
When there's sorrow in sunshine and flowers
And still only our rivers run free

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ON MIDSUMMER DAY

On midsummer day in the land of Erin
The war with the Firbolg about to begin
Thrice nine of the children of Danu were killed
In the first bloody hurl match upon the great hill

For four days a terrible slaughter took place
The king of the Firbolg with agonized face
At the Morrigan's screaming while circling above
And blood drenched the country of goddesses' love

Derry down, down, down, derry down

Yeokay the Firbolg was killed in his flight
The hand of Nuada chopped off in the fight
Tho battle was ended there was just one thing
Nuada was blemished, he could not be king
Avoiding occurrence of political wars
The goddesses' children went to the Fomors
The king of the Fomors, he sent them his son
To rule Danu's children and block out the sun

Derry down, down, down, derry down

The name of this evil new ruler was Bres
Stole most of their cattle and taxed all the rest
Ogma the champion was sent to fetch wood
The Dagda was forced to build forts fast as he could

They suffered from insult from famine and cold
Bres would not allow them their pleasures to hold
The Armid, the Dianchet and Miach were known
Attempting to help Nuada take back the throne

Derry down...

They dug up his hand and they put in place
The magic was worked and the pentagrams traced
Sinew to sinew and nerve to nerve fold
Nuada's eyes glistened and he became whole

A poet and tale teller deserved some respect
I sang songs for Bres tho I didn't expect
To be thrown in a dungeon, no fire, no bread
A curse upon Bres was the next thing I read

Derry down...

No meat on the plates and no milk of the cows
No money for minstrels, no homes for ourselves
By hoarding and taxing he says he conserves
May Bres receive what he truly deserves

The magic began as the magic was said
And his face became covered with blotches bright red
By being a tyrant he was made a fool
The result of this blemish was he could not rule

Derry down...

And Nuada returned to the throne once again
And the children of Danu rejoiced to the end
By feasting and drinking all night till we fold
the triumphant children of goddess of old

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OULD WOMAN FROM WEXFORD, THE

Well, there was an old woman from Wexford
And in Wexford she did well
She lovered old man dearly
But another one twice as well

Chorus:
With me tiggery tiggery-toram
And me toram-toram-ta

Ah one day she went to a doctor
Some medicine for to find
She said, 'Will ye give me something
That'll make my ould man blind?'

Says he, 'Give me eggs and marrow bones
And make him sup them all
And it won't be so very long after
That he won't see you at all.'

Well the doctor wrote a letter
And he signed it with his hand
He sent it to the ould man
Just to let him understand

So she fed him the eggs and the marrow bones;
And she made him sup them all
And it wasn't so very long after
That he couldn't see the wall

Says th'ould man 'I think I'll drown meself
But that might be a sin.'
Says she, 'I'll come along with you
And I'll help to shove you in.'

Well the ould woman she stood back a bit
For to rush an' push him in
But the ould man gently stepped aside
And she went tumblin' in

Oh, how lowdly she did yell
And how loudly she did bawl
'Arra, hould yer whist, y'ould woman
Sure I can't see you at all

Ah, sure eggs, eggs and marrow bones
Will make yer ould man blind
But, if you want to drown him
You must creep up close behind
With me tiggery tiggery-toram
And me toram-toram-ta
With me tiggery tiggery-toram
And the blind man he could see

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OUR LADS IN CRUMLIN JAIL

In Ireland's fight for freedom, boys, the North has played her part
And though her day has yet to come, we never yet must part
We'll keep the fight until the end, we know we cannot fail

And there's the reason why today they keep our lads in Crumlin Jail
So join the fight, you volunteers, it cannot be denied
That jail won't break their spirits down

They'd just as soon have died for England know
And England hates our fearless Northern name
And that's another reason why they keep our lads in Crumlin Jail

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Beer Belly band

Besedila irskih pesmi | Irish song lyrics

O

OUR WEDDING DAY

O'Reilly and the Big McNeill

OLD GERMAN CLOCKWINDER

ONE LAST COLD KISS

THE ORANGE AND THE GREEN

ORDINARY MAN

ORO, ORO

THE OULD ALARM CLOCK

THE OULD ORANGE FLUTE

THE OVERGATE

OFF TO DUBLIN IN THE GREEN

OFF TO PHILADELPHIA

OLD MAID IN THE GARRET

THE OLD PUBS

THE OLD TRIANGLE

THE OLD WOMEN FROM BELFAST

ON THE DOLE

OLD DUN COW

O'DONNELL ABU

O'ER THE WAY

ON THE ONE ROAD

ORANGE MAID OF SLIGO

OLD ELM TREE, THE

Old Dungarven Oak, The

Old Bog Road, The

OLD FENIAN GUN

OLD MAN, THE

ONLY OUR RIVERS RUN FREE

ON MIDSUMMER DAY

OULD WOMAN FROM WEXFORD, THE

OUR LADS IN CRUMLIN JAIL

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