Irish song lyrics | Besedila irskih pesmi

S

Sae Will We Yet
Saint Brendan's Fair Isle
Saint Brendan's Voyage
Sally MacLennane
Salonika
Sam Hall
Sam song
Satisfied
Scarborough Faire
Schooner Fred Dunbar
Scotsman, The
Sea around us, The
Sean South (of Garryowen)
Seven drunken nights (1)
Seven drunken nights (2)
Shall my soul pass through old Ireland?
Shanagolden
Shearin's No For You, The
Ships Carpentar, The
Shores of Amerikay, The
Shule Agra
Sing, Irishman, Sing
Siuil A Ruin
Skibbereen (1)
Skibbereen (2)
Skye Boat Song
Slane (be thou my vision)
Slievenamon
Snipers promise
Snowy breasted pearl, The
Soldiers of the Cumman Na mBann, The
Some Say The Devil Is Dead [MP3]
Spancil Hill [MP3]
Spanish lady, The
Spinning wheel song, The
St.Patrick Never Drank
Star of the County Down (1)
Star of the County Down (2)
Step it our Mary
Stone outside Dan Murphy's door
Streams Of Whiskey
Streets Of London
Streets of New York, The
Strong Women Rule Us All With Their Tears
Sullivan's John
Summer in Dublin
Sun Is Burning
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Sunday Driver
Supergrass
Sweet Rosy O'Grady
Sweet Thames Flow Softly

Total lyrics: 52

STREAMS OF WHISKEY

Last night as I slept, I dreamt I met with Behan
He took me by the hand and I passed the time of day
The questions that I asked on the crux of life's philosophies
He had but these few, clear and simple words to say

Chorus:
I am going, I am going, any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going; I am going, where streams of whiskey are flowing

The words that he spoke were the wisest of philosophies
There was nothing ever gained by a wet thing called a tear
When the world seemed to dark and I need a light inside of me
I'll go into a bar and drink fifteen pints of beer

Chorus

I've cursed, bled and swore, jumped bail and landed up in jail
They've often tried to hang me, but rope always went slack
Now that I've a pile, I'll go down to the Chelsea
I'll walk in on my feet, but I'll leave there on my back

Chorus
Chorus

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THE STREETS OF LONDON

Have you seen the old man in the closed down market
Kicking up the papers in his worn out shoes
In his eyes you see no pride and held loosely by his side
Yesterday's papers, telling yesterday's news

Chorus:
So how can you tell me, you're lonely
And that for you the sun don't shine
Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something to make you change you mind

Have you seen the old girl who walks the streets of London
Dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags
She's no time for talking; she just keeps right on walking
Carrying her home in two carrier bags

Chorus

In the all night cafe at a quarter past eleven
The same old man sitting there all alone
Looking at the world over the rim of his tea cup
Each tea last and hour, then she wanders home alone

Chorus

Have you seen the old man outside the seaman's mission
His memory fading like the medal ribbons that he wears
In our winter city, the rain cries a little pity
For one more forgotten hero in a world that doesn't care

Chorus
Chorus

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STRONG WOMEN RULE US ALL WITH THEIR TEARS

There's a moment of your story that has always haunted me
When you set out in yon open boat to help the poor man flee
Was Charlie Stuart's future Already plain to see did you know he'd be a waster on his days
If you did, I'd give the world to find a single tear you cried

Chorus:
From the Cuillins tae the Carolinas you showed us one and all
The courage you could call from the tears that would not fall from your eyes
And after thirty years after all that you'd been through

Was the though of Bonny Charlie just a memory to rue
As you watched your husband putting on his coat of scarlet hue
To go and fight for German Geordie's crown
But you never tried to hide behind the dreams of days gone by

Chorus:
From the Cuillins tae the Carolinas you showed us one and all
The courage you could call from the tears that would not fall from your eyes
And there's times I think I see you when I find that kind of face

When a woman's independence has kept a woman's grace
Where confidence and pride refuse to know their place
Or hide behind the easy tricks of beauty
For to me your lights are like the chimes across the stormy skies

Chorus:
From the Cuillins tae the Carolinas you showed us one and all
The courage you could call from the tears that would not fall from your eyes
From the Cuillins tae the Carolinas you showed us one and all
The courage you could call from the tears that would not fall from your eyes

NOTES: Brian's intro to the song was: "200 years ago there was a woman named Flora McDonald. Very very famous in Scotland, she saved Bonnie Prince Charlie after the civil war of 1745. For that she is a real hero in Scotland. With no reason, because Bonnie Prince Charlie was a complete idiot. Something like Margaret Thatcher's son for example. Maybe worse. The song is a hymn to women's power." This is a kind of modern Jacobite song. The Cuillins are a mountain range on the Scottish Isle of Skye, where Charlie Stuart fled to by boat after the battle of Culloden. This trip and Flora McDonald are commemorated in the famous "Skye Boat Song". In her later life, after having spent several years in prison for helping Charlie flee, Flora emigrated with her husband to South Carolina. In 1776, her husband fought for the English forces. After the American victory, she returned to her native Skye and died there.

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THE SUN IS BURNING

The sun is burning in the sky
Strands of clouds go slowly drifting by
In the park the dreamy bees are droning in the flowers among the trees
And the sun burns in the sky

Now the sun is in the west
Little babes lay down to take their rest
And the couples in the park are holding hands and waiting for the dark
And the sun is in the west

Now the sun is sinking low
Children playing know it's time to go
High above a spot appears a little blossom blooms and then draws near
And the sun is sinking low

Now the sun has come to earth
Shrouded in a mushroom cloud of death
Death comes in a blinding flash of hellish heat and leaves a smear of ash
And the sun has come to earth

Now the sun has disappeared
All that's left is darkness pain and fear
Twisted sightless wrecks of men go groping on their knees and cry in pain
And the sun has disappeared

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SUNDAY DRIVER

Well I've been a Sunday driver now for many's a happy year
And I've never had my Morris-Miner in route to second gear
I can drive at 15 miles an hour on motor way or track
With my wife up front beside me and her mother in the back
There was me and my daddy and my daddy's mammy
And her sister's granny and four of her chums and Auntie Jean

In a crowd of fifty trippers you can always pick me out
For my "Don't blame me, I voted Tories" sticker on the boot
With my bunch of heather stickin' in my radiator grill
And my stick on transfer bullet holes and license for to kill
There was me and my daddy and my daddy's mammy
And her sister's granny and four of her chums and Auntie Peg

I've a hundred plastic pennants for to tell you where I've been
And my steering wheel is clad in simulated leopard skin
Up front from the rear view mirror hangs a plastic skeleton
And in the back a dog with eyes that flicker off and on
There was me and my daddy and my daddy's mammy
And her sister's granny and four of her chums and Auntie Mae

Now if you wonder how these weekly trips I can afford
It's because I'm on a stipend from the Scottish Tourist Board
You're supposed to enjoy the scenery the finest of it's kind
And that is why you have convoy following behind
There was me and my daddy and my daddy's mammy
And her sister's granny and four of her chums and Auntie Rose

Always drive as though my foot was resting on the brake
And I weave about the road just so you canna over take
I can get you so frustrated that you'll finish up in tears
And the sound of blaring motor horns is music to my ears
There was me and my daddy and my daddy's mammy
And her sister's granny and four of her chums and Auntie Gertrude
There was me and my daddy and my daddy's mammy
And her sister's granny and four of her chums—You're driving too fast!

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SWEET THAMES FLOW SOFTLY

I met my girl at Woolwich Pier, beneath the big cranes standing
And oh, the love I felt for her it passed all understanding
Took her sailing on the river, flow sweet river, flow
London town was mine to give her, Sweet Thames flow softly

Made the Thames into a crown, flow sweet river, flow
Made a brooch of Silver town, Sweet Thames flow softly
At London Yard I held her hand; at Blackwall Point I faced her
At the Isle of Dogs I kissed her mouth and tenderly embraced her

Heard the bells of Greenwich ringing, flow sweet river, flow
All the time I had was singing, Sweet Thames flow softly
Lighthouse Reach I gave her there, flow sweet river, flow
As a ribbon for her hair, Sweet Thames flow softly

From Putney Bridge to Nine Elms Reach, we cheek to cheek were dancing
Her necklace made of London Bridge, her beauty was enhancing
Kissed her once again at Wapping, flow sweet river, flow
After that there was no stopping, Sweet Thames flow softly

Gave her Hampton Court to twist, flow sweet river, flow
Into a bracelet for her wrist, Sweet Thames flow softly
But now alas the tide has changed, my love she has gone from me
And winter's frost has touched my heart and put a blight upon me

Creeping fog is on the river, flow sweet river, flow
Sun and moon and stars gone with her, Sweet Thames flow softly
Swift the Thames runs to the sea, flow sweet river, flow
Bearing ships and part of me, Sweet Thames flow softly

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SAE WILL WE YET

Come sit you down my cronies and give us all your crack
Let the wind take the cares of this life on its back
Our hearts to despondency we never will submit
We've always been provided for and sae will we yet
Sae will we yet, oh and sae will we yet
We've always been provided for and sae will we yet

Success to the farmer and prosper his plow
Rewarding his industrious toils all the year through
Our seed time and our harvest we ever more will get
We trusted aye in providence and sae will we yet
Sae will we yet, oh and sae will we yet
We trusted aye in providence and sae will we yet

And bring us all at anchor of the hairiest brown ale
To bring comfort to our hearts and to enliven the tale
Will always be the merrier the longer that we sit
We've drunk together many's the time and sae will we yet
Sae will we yet, oh and sae will we yet
We've drunk together many's the time and sae will we yet

Let the glass keep its course and go merrily her own
For the sun will always rise when the moon has gone down
When the house is running round about it's time enough to flit
When we fell we aye got up again and sae will we yet
Sae will we yet, oh and sae will we yet
When we fell we aye got up again and sae will we yet

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SAINT BRENDAN'S FAIR ISLE

When I was a lad on the Emerald Isle
I heard many stories both lovely and wild
About the great dragons and monsters that be
That swallow the ships when they sail on the sea
Though I was an artist with canvas and paints
I sailed with St. Brendan and his jolly saints
We told the good people good-bye for a while

Chorus:
We sailed for St. Brendan's Fair Isle, Fair Isle
We sailed for St. Brendan's Fair Isle

We'd been on the ocean for ninety four days
We came to the spot where the sea was ablaze
Those demons from Hades were dancing with glee
And burning the sailors alive on the sea
Then St. Brendan walked on the blistering waves
He threw all the demons right back to their caves
And all of the saints wore a heavenly smile

One night while the brethren were lying asleep
A great dragon came up from under the deep
He thundered and lightened and made a great din
He awakened St. Brendan and all of his men
The dragon came up with his mouth opened wide
We threw in a cross and the dragon died
We skinned him and cooked and feasted awhile

At last we came unto a beautiful land
We all went ashore and we walked on the sand
We took our long bows and killed a Zebu
We roasted it up and had hot barbecue
And after awhile we were singing a song
We noticed the island was moving along
We ate and we drank and we rode in high style

Now Brendan said boys it is much to my wish
We ride on the back of the world's biggest fish
Hold fast to the rope that is pulling the ship
We'll need it someday if this fish take a dip
We sailed every ocean we sailed every sea
We sailed every spot that a sailor could be
In forty four days we sailed ten million miles

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SAINT BRENDAN'S VOYAGE

A boat sailed out of Brandon, in the year of nine-o-one
'Twas a damp and dirty morning, Brendan's voyage had begun
Tired of tinnin' turnips and cuttin' curly-kale
When he got back from the creamery, he hoisted up his sail

He made the lonely furlong, to the north, south, east and west
Of all the navigators, St. Brendan was the best
When he got low on candles, he was forced to make a stop
He tied up in Long Island, put America on the map

Did you know that Honolulu was found be a Kerry man
Who went on to find Australia, then China and Japan
When he was reaching seventy he began to miss the crack
And turnin' to his albatross, sez he, "I'm headin' back."

Chorus:
Is it right or left to Gibraltar, what tack do I take for Mizen Head
I'd loved to settle down be Ventry Harbor, St. Brendan to his albatross he said

To make it fast, he bent the mast and built up mighty steam
Round Terra del Fuego and up the warm gulf stream
He crossed the last horizon, Mt. Brandon was in sight
When he cleared the customs, into Dingle for the night

When he got to Cordon Bleu, he went to douse the draught
He headin' West to Kruger's to murder pints of stout
Around be Ballyferriter and up the Conor Pass
He free wheeled into Brandon, the Saint was home at last

The entire population came the place was chocker block
Oh, love nor money couldn't get your nose inside the shop
The fishermen hauled up their nets, the farmers left their hay
For the Kerry people know that Saints don't turn up every day

Everything was goin' grand till Brendan did announce
His reason for returning, was to try and set up house
The girl were flabbergasted at St. Brendan's neck
To seek a wife so late in life and him a total wreck

Wore down by rejection, this pierced his humble pride
By God, sez Brendan, "if I run, I'll surely catch the tide."
Turn's in his sandals, he made straight for the dock
And haulin' up the anchor he cast off from the rocks

As he sailed passed Innishvickallaune there stood the albatross
"I knew you'd never stick it out, 'tis great to see you boss."
"I'm bailin' out," sez Brendan, "I badly need a break,"
A fortnight is about as much as any aul' Saint could take."

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SALLY MacLENNANE

When Jimmy played harmonica in the pub where I was born
He played it from the night time to the peaceful early morn
He soothed the souls of psychos and the men who had the horn
And they all looked very happy in the morning

Chorus:
We walked him to the station in the rain,
We kissed him as we put him on the train
We sang him a song of times long gone,
Though we knew that we'd be seeing him again
I'm sad to say I must be on me way,
So buy me beer and whiskey cause I'm going far away
I'd like to think I'll be returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

Now Jimmy didn't like his place in this world of ours
Where the Elephant Man broke strong men's necks when he had too many powers
So sad to see the grieving of the people that I'm leaving
And he took the road for God knows in the morning

Chorus

The years passed by the times had changed; I grew to be a man
I learned to love the virtues of sweet Sally MacLennane
I took the jeers and drank the beer and crawled back home at dawn
And ended up a barman in the morning

Chorus

I played the pump and took the hump and watered whiskey down
I talked of whores and horses to the men who drank the brown
I heard them say that Jimmy's making money far away
Some people left for heaven without warning

Chorus

When Jimmy came back home he was surprised that they were gone
He asked me all the details of the train that they went on
Some people they are scared to croak, but Jimmy drank until he choked
And took the road for heaven in the morning

Chorus

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SALONIKA

Me husband's in Salonika, I wonder if he's dead
I wonder if he knows he's got a kid with a foxy head
So right away, so right away,
So right away Salonika, right away me soldier boy

Now when the war is over, what will the slackers do
They'll be all around the soldiers for the loan of a bob or two
So right away, so right away,
So right away Salonika, right away me soldier boy

Now when the war is over, what will the soldiers do
They'll be walking around on a leg and a half
And the slackers they'll have two
So right away, so right away,
So right away Salonika, right away me soldier boy

They taxed our pound of butter; they taxed our half-penny bun,
But still with all their taxes they can't beat the bloody Hun
So right away, so right away,
So right away Salonika, right away me soldier boy

They taxed the Coliseum; they taxed St. Mary's Hall
Why don't they tax the Bobbies with their backs against the wall
So right away, so right away,
So right away Salonika, right away me soldier boy

Now when the war is over, what will the slackers do
For every kid in America in there will be two
So right away, so right away,
So right away Salonika, right away me soldier boy

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SAM HALL

Oh, me name it is Sam Hall, chimney sweep, chimney sweep
Oh, me name it is Sam Hall, chimney sweep,
Oh, me name it is Sam Hall and I've robbed both great and small
And me neck will pay for all, when I die, when I die
And me neck will pay for all, when I die

I have twenty pounds in store, that's not all, that's not all
I have twenty pounds in store, that's not all
I have twenty pounds in store, and I'll rob for twenty more
For the rich must help the poor, so must I, so must I
For the rich must help the poor, so must I

Oh, they took me to Coote Hill, in a cart, in a cart
Oh, they took me to Coote Hill, in a cart,
Oh, they took me to Coote Hill, where I stopped to make my will
Saying, "The best of friends must part, so must I, so must I"
The best of friends must part, so must I

Up the ladder I did grope, that's no joke, that's no joke
Up the ladder I did grope, that's no joke
Up the ladder I did grope, and the hangman pulled the rope
Oh, and ne'er a word I spoke, tumbling down, tumbling down
Oh, and ne'er a word I spoke, tumbling down

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Skye Boat Song

Speed bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward, the sailors cry
Carry the lad that's born to be king
Over the sea to Skye

Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,
Thunder clouds rend the air;
Baffled our foe's stand on the shore
Follow they will not dare

Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep
Ocean's a royal bed
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by your weary head

Many's the lad fought on that day
Well the claymore could wield
When the night came, silently lay
Dead on Culloden's field

Burned are our homes, exile and death
Scatter the loyal men
Yet, e'er the sword cool in the sheath,
Charlie will come again.

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The Shearin's No For You

Oh the shearin's no for you, my bonnie lassie oh
Oh the shearin's no for you, my bonnie lassie oh,
Oh the shearin's no for you, for yer back it winna boo,
And yer belly's rowan fu' my bonnie lassie oh.

Dae ye mind the banks o' Ayr, my bonnie lassie oh,
Dae ye mind the banks o' Ayr, my bonnie lassie oh,
Dae ye mind the banks o' Ayr, where my heart ye did ensnare,
And yer love ye did declare, my bonnie lassie oh.

Tak the ribbons frae yer hair, my bonnie lassie oh,
Tak the ribbons frae yer hair, my bonnie lassie oh,
Tak the ribbons frae yer hair, and let doon yer ringlets fair,
Ye've nocht noo but doul an' care, my bonnie lassie oh.

Tak the buckles frae yer shin, my bonnie lassie oh,
Tak the buckles frae yer shin, my bonnie lassie oh,
Tak the buckles frae yer shin, for ye've wed an unco loon
And yer dancin days are done, my bonnie lassie oh,

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The Scotsman

Well a Scotsman clad in kilt left a bar on evening fair
And one could tell by how we walked that he drunk more than his share
He fumbled round until he could no longer keep his feet
Then he stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
He stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street

About that time two young and lovely girls just happend by
And one says to the other with a twinkle in her eye
See yon sleeping Scotsman so strong and handsome built
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt

They crept up on that sleeping Scotsman quiet as could be
Lifted up his kilt about an inch so they could see
And there behold, for them to see, beneath his Scottish skirt
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth

They marveled for a moment, then one said we must be gone
Let's leave a present for our friend, before we move along
As a gift they left a blue silk ribbon, tied into a bow
Around the bonnie star, the Scots kilt did lift and show
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
Around the bonnie star, the Scots kilt did lift and show

Now the Scotsman woke to nature's call and stumbled towards a tree
Behind a bush, he lift his kilt and gawks at what he sees
And in a startled voice he says to what's before his eyes.
O lad I don't know where you been but I see you won first prize
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
O lad I don't know where you been but I see you won first prize

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St. Patrick Never Drank

The 14th day of February’s for Saint Valentine
September 29th is when Saint Michael’s faithful dine
On April 23rd we hail Saint George without restraint
And come November 1st we cheer for EV’RY bloody saint

But none of those can claim the very BEST day of the year
‘Cause on March 17th we praise the patron saint of BEER!

[Cheers: "Hail St Patrick!" "Slainte!" etc.]

But wait! Don’t cheer for greenish beer or Irish cream liqueur
Be-cause the man you toast was one devout tee-to-tal-ER!

Saint Patrick never drank! (Hey!)
Saint Patrick never drank! (Hey!)
‘Twas only clear, unleaded stuff he poured into his tank!
He’d take the cash YOU spend for drafts and stash it in the bank! (Hooray!)
Heroic, true, but STOIC too!
Saint Patrick never drank!

He strode with ancient war-ri-ors from coast to plain to highland
His staff he’d shake till ev’ry snake was banished from the island
He taught his fans the shamrock stands for Father, Son, and Spirit
But don’t break out the Guinness Stout – the man would not go near it!

Saint Patrick didn’t drink! (Hey!)
Saint Patrick didn’t drink! (Hey!)
He never tossed a bracer back or teetered on the brink!
So pour another tall one, lad, then pour it down the sink! (Hooray!)
With piety, SOBRIETY!
Saint Patrick didn’t drink!

Saint Patrick never drank (Hey!)
Saint Patrick never drank (Hey!)
So let’s be frank: When asked his fav’rite beer, he drew a blank!
By gosh, if he could see you sloshed, he’d give your tush a spank! (Hooray!)
The guy was swell – but DRY AS HELL!
Saint Patrick never drank!

No, SAINT – PAT – RICK – NEV – ER – DRANK!

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Siuil A Ruin

I wish I was on yonder hill
'Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill,
And every tear would turn a mill,
Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn.

(phoenetic Gaelic)
Shule, shule, shule aroon,
Shule go succir agus, shule go kewn,
Shule go dheen durrus oggus aylig lume,
Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn.

I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel,
I'll sell my only spinning wheel,
To buy my love a sword of steel
Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn.

I'll dye my petticoats, I'll dye them red,
And 'round the world I'll beg my bread,
Until my parents shall wish me dead,
Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn.

I wish, I wish, I wish in vain,
I wish I had my heart again,
And vainly think I'd not complain,
Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn.

But now my love has gone to France,
To try his fortune to advance;
If he e'er come back, 'tis but a chance,
Iss guh day thoo avorneen slawn.

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Scarborough Faire

Are you going to Scarborough Faire?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
Remember me to one who lived there.
She once was a true love of mine.

Have her make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
Without no seams, nor fine needle work.
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

Tell her to weave it in a sycamore wood lane.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Gather it up in a basket of flowers
Then she'll be a true love of mine

Have her wash it in yonder dry well
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Where water ne'er sprung, nor drop of rain fell.
Then she'll be a true love of mine

Tell her to to find me an acre of land.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the sea foam and over the sand.
Then she'll be a true love of mine

Plow the land with the horn of a lamb.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Then sow some seeds from north of the dam.
Then she'll be a true love of mine

Have her reap it with a sickle of leather.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Gather it up in a bunch of heather.
Then she'll be a true love of mine

If she tells me she can't, then I'll reply.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Let me know, that at least she will try.
Then she'll be a true love of mine

Love imposes impossible tasks
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Though not more than any heart asks.
And I must know she's true love of mine

When thou has finished thy task.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Come to me my hand for to ask.
For then you'll be a true love of mine

Additional verses:

Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
Which never bore blossom since Adam was born,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Ask her to do me this courtesy,
Parsely, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
And ask for a like favor from me,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Have you been to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
Remember me from one who lives there,
For he once was a true love of mine.

When he has done and finished his work,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,
Ask him to come for his cambric shirt,
For then he'll be a true love of mine.

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Satisfied

It was twelve days ago in a pub. Night was near.
I was on me fourth pint of their best Irish beer
When a thought quickly struck me of all I hold dear.
So I went on outside to the hill with my beer.

Well, I smelled all the flowers all the flowers.
I've left none to behind.
I've told more the truth than I've told fib or lie
And I hope when you find me in the hills where I'll lie
That it'll always be said that I died satisfied.

Well, I took both the good and the bad in me life.
And I made the most of it in a home with me wife.
And I raised me two kids both a girl and a boy.
And they made all me life, oh, a gift to enjoy.

As for friends I've had many I ne're walked alone,
And a few were like family just as much as me own
They helped in times troubled and made happiness known.
And they gave me a young heart I've never outgrown,

Well, the evening was leaving and the sun said goodbye.
I thought of me past and I smiled with a sigh.
Oh, I had no regrets nay a reason to cry.
So I drank me beer down 'till the glass all was dry.

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Some say the Devil is Dead

Some say the devil is dead, the devil is dead, the devil is dead,
Some say the devil is dead and buried in Killarney.
More say he rose again, more say he rose again, more say he rose
again, And joined the British army.

Feed the pigs and milk the cow, milk the cow, milk the cow,
Feed the pigs and milk the cow, so early in the morning.
Tuck your leg up, Paddy, dear. Paddy, dear, I'm over here! Tuck your leg
up, Paddy dear,
It's time to stop your yawning

Chorus

Katie, she is tall and thin, tall and thin, tall and thin.
Katie, she is tall and thin. She likes a drop of brandy.
Drinks it in the bed at night, drinks it in the bed at night, drinks it in the
bed at night. It makes her nice and randy.

Chorus

My man is six foot tall, six foot tall, six foot tall,
My man is six foot tall, he likes his sugar candy.
Goes to bed at six o'clock, goes to bed at six o'clock, goes to bed at six
o'clock. He's lazy, fat and dandy.

Chorus
My wife, she has a hairy thing, a hairy thing, a hairy thing.
My wife, she has a hairy thing, she showed it to me Sunday.
She bought it in the furrier shop, bought it in the furrier shop, bought it in
the furrier shop.
It's going back on Monday.

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SAM song

I have been a Provo now for 15 years or more
with armalites and motorbombs I thought I knew the score
but now we have a weapon, we've never used before
the Brits are looking worried - and their going to worry more!

Tiocfaidh Ar La, sing Up the 'RA
SAM missiles, in the sky

I started off with petrol bomb and throwing bricks and stones
with a 100 more lads like me I never was along
but soon and learned that bricks and stones won't drive the Brits away
it wasn't very long before, I joined the IRA

Then there came Internment in the year of '71
the Brits thought we were beaten that we were on the run
on that early August morning they kicked'in our back door
but for every man they took away, they missed a hundred more

I spent eight years in the cages, I had time to think and plan
for though they locked away a boy, I walked out a man
and there's only one thing that I learned will in their cell I lay
the Brits will never leave us, until their blown away!

All through the days of Hunger strike I watched my comrades die
while in the streets of Belfast you could hear the women cry
I can't forget the massacre that Friday at Loughgall
I salute my fallen comrades, as I watch the choppers fall

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SEAN SOUTH OF GARRYOWEN

   (spoken)
   Sad are the homes 'round Garryowen
   Since lost their giant pride.
   And the banshee cry links every vale
   Around the Shannon side
   That city of the ancient walls
   The broken treaty stone, undying fame
   Surrounds your name - Sean South of Garryowen

   'Twas on a dreary New Year's Eve
   As the shades of night came down
   A lorry load of volunteers approached a border town
   There were men from Dublin and from Cork
   Fermanagh and Tyrone
   But the leader was a Limerick man -
   Sean South from Garryowen

   And as they moved along the street
   Up to the barracks door
   They scorned the danger they might meet
   Their fate that lay in store
   They were fighting for old Ireland's cause
   To claim their very own
   And the foremost of that gallant band
   Was South of Garryowen

   But the sergeant spoiled their daring plan
   He spied them through the door
   The Sten guns and the rifles
   A hail of death did pour
   And when that awful night was passed
   Two men lay cold as stone
   There was one from near the border
   And one from Garryowen

   No more he will hear the seagull's cry
   O'er the murmuring Shannon tide
   For he fell beneath a northern sky
   Brave Hanlon by his side
   They have gone to join that gallant band
   Of Plunkett, Pearse, and Tone
   A martyr for old Ireland
   Sean South from Garryowen

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SWEET ROSY O'GRADY

Down around the corner of the street where I reside,
There lives the cutest little girl that I have ever spied.
Her name is Rose O' Grady and I don't mind telling you
That she's the sweetest little rose this garden ever grew

cho: Sweet Rosie O' Grady,
My dear little Rose.
She's my steady lady,
Most ev 'ryone knows;
And when we are married,
How happy we'll be;
I love Sweet Rosie O' Grady and
Rosie O' Grady loves me.

I never shall forget the day she promised to be mine
As we sat telling love-tales in the goldedn summertime
'Twas on her finger then I placd a small engagement ring
While in the trees, the little birds, this song they seemed to sing:

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Stone Outside Dan Murphy's Door

There's a sweet garden spot in my memory
'Tis the place I was born in and reared
'Tis long years ago since I left it
But return there I will if I'm spared
To the friends and companions of childhood
Who'd assemble each night by the score
Round Dan Murphy's shop, and there we would stop
At the stone that stood outside his door
Those days in our hearts we will cherish
Contented although we were poor
And the songs that we sung in the days we were young
On the stone outside Dan Murphy's door

Break

When our days work was over we'd go there
In summer or winter the same
The boys and girls would assemble
And join in some innocent game
Dan Murphy would bring down his fiddle
While his daughter would look after the store
The music would ring and the songs we would sing
On the stone outside Dan Murphy's door
Those days in our hearts we will cherish
Contented although we were poor
And the songs that we sung in the days we were young
On the stone outside Dan Murphy's door
And the songs that we sung in the days we were young
On the stone outside Dan Murphy's door

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SHIP'S CARPENTER, THE

'Twas in Lisburgh of late a fair damsel did dwell;
Her wit and her beauty no one could e'er tell.
She was loved by a fair one who called her his dear
And he by his trade was a ship's carpenteer.

He says, 'Molly, lovely Molly, if you will agree
And give your consent, love, for to marry me.
Your love it would cure me from all sorrow and care
If you will agree to wed a ship's carpenter.'

'Twas changing and blushing like a rose in full bloom
'To marry you,' Willie, you know I'm too young.
I'm afraid for to venture before I prepare;
I never will marry a ship's carpenter.'

Her talk was in vain as he straight took denial,
And he by his coming soon made her reply.
'Twas by her exception he led her astray;
O'er high hills and pathways he did her betray.

Things passed on for awhile till at length we did hear
A ship must be sailing all o'er the salt sea.
It grieved this fair damsel and wounded her heart-
To think from her darling how soon must she part.

She says, 'Willie, lovely Willie' are you going on sea?
Remember those vows that you once made to me.
If at home you don't tarry I can find no rest,
Oh how can You leave your poor darling at last ?'

With tender expression those words he did say:
'I will marry you, Molly, before I go away.
If it be tomorrow, and you will come down,
A ring I will buy you worth one hundred pound.'

With tender expression they parted that night;
They promised to meet the next morning by light.
Says Willie to Molly, 'You must come with me
And before we are married my friends for to see.'

He led her through pathways, o'er hills that were steep
Till this pretty fair one began for to weep,
Saying, 'False-hearted Willie, you've led me astray,
Purpose my innocent life to betray.'

He says, 'You have guessed right; on earth can't you see
For all of last night I've been digging your grave.'
When innocent Molly she heard him say so,
Tears from her eyes like a fountain did flow.

'Twas a grave with a spade lying there she did spy
Which caused her to sigh and to weep bitterly.
O false-hearted Willie, you're the worst of mankind.
Is this the bride's bed I expected to find?

'Tis pity my infant and spare me my life;
Let me live full of shame if I can't be your wife.
Take not my life, for my soul you'll betray
And you (to perdition) soon hurried away.'

There's no time to be waiting, disputing to stand.
He instantly taking a knife in his hand,
He pierced her bosom and the blood down did flow,
And into the grave her poor body he throwed.

He covered her over and then hurried home,
Leaving none but the small birds her fate to be known.
He then sailed on board without more delay;
He sad sailed for Plowmount far o'er the salt sea.

'Twas a young man named Stewart with courage so brave,
The night it was dark as he went to the wave.
A beauty fair damsel to him did appear,
She held in her arrums an infant most dear.

Being merry with liquor, he ran to embrace,
Transported with joy at her beautiful face,
But by his amazement she vanished away.
He told to the captain without more delay.

The captain soon summoned his jolly ship's crew.
'Oh my brave young fellows, I fear some of you
Has murdered that fair one and then come with me;
Her poor spirit haunts you all o'er the salt sea.'

Then false-hearted Willie he fell to his knees
And the blood in his veins all like horror did freeze,
Crying, 'Monster, oh lover, oh what have I done ?
God help me, I fear my poor soul is undone.'

'You poor injured fair one, your pardon I crave;
How soon must I follow you down to the grave!
There's none but you, fair one, to see that sad sight.'
And by her distraction he died the same night.

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SCHOONER FRED DUNBAR

You darling girls of Bagaduce who live along the shore
'Tis little do you think or know what sailors do endure
Or if you did, you would treat them with more respect than before
You never would go with a landloper while sailors are on shore

Oh those Penobscot cowboys will tell you girls fine tales
Of the hardships they endure while they are in the cornfields
While they feed their hens and punch their pigs and make their mothers roar
While we, like jovial-hearted boys, go to the Bay Chaleur

You darling girls of Bagaduce perhaps you'd like to know
The names of all our sailors before we start to go
Their names and dispositions, I'll endeavor to explain
Before we set our canvas to plough the raging main

The first was Hiram Wardwell who runs the Rory O'More
The next was Captain Perkins who roams the golden shore
They're very much respected by all both fore and aft
Two better men cannot be found on an Androscoggin raft

There was little Herman, Leroy and Bill, and Oliver Quinn and Steel
And Amos H. the author, who an entry sheep did steal
The next was little Owen, who loves the girls so well
The last was young Horatio - we called him the Admiral

On board of the Schooner Fred Dunbar, well found in fishing gear
We crowded on our canvas, for Green's Landing we did steer
When we arrived at anchor, the sun was very low
'Twas there we shipped young Stinson and Captain Mood Thurlew

When we arrived at Port McGrave, we hauled in for our salt
We took our little fiddle to have a little waltz
There was twelve of us when we started, our songs through the woods did roar
When we arrived, I was surprised, I could not count but four

The first day of September, broad off Cape Mardean
We struck a squall from our south-southeast which broke our boom in two
So gallantly she weathered it and it was fine to see
She walked to the windward with mainsail down, bound out to Margaree

The last day of September will be remembered well
And how poor sailors fared that night, no tongue can ever tell
The wind blew high, the seas grew rough, and in torrents fell the rain
I never saw such a night before and hope I shan't again

You darling girls of Bagaduce, the time is drawing nigh
When soon you'll see the Stars and Stripes from the Fred's main topmast fly
Get ready, gallant lasses, put on your other gowns
For soon you'll see the Fred Dunbar come sailing up to town

O now this voyage is ended and we've arrived on shore
With our pockets full of greenbacks we have earned to the Bay Chaleur
So merrily we'll dance and sing, as we have done before,
And when our money is all gone, we'll plough the bay some more.

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SEA AROUND US, THE

They say that the lakes of Killarney are fair
That no stream like the Liffey can ever compare
If it's water you want, you'll find nothing more rare
Than the stuff they make down by the ocean

Chorus:
The sea, oh the sea is the gradh geal mo croide
Long may it stay between England and me
It's a sure guarantee that some hour we'll be free
Oh, thank God we're surrounded by water

Tom Moore made his "Waters" meet fame and reknown
A great lover of anything dressed in a crown
In brandy the bandy old Saxon he'd drown
But throw ne'er a one in the ocean

The Scots have their Whisky, the Welch have their speech
And their poets are paid about tenpence a week
Provided no hard words on England they speak
Oh Lord, what a price for devotion

The Danes came to Ireland with nothing to do
But dream of the plundered old Irish they slew
"Yeh will in yer vikings" said Brian Boru
And threw them back into the ocean

Two foreign old monarchs in battle did join
Each wanting his head on the back of a coin;
If the Irish had sense they'd drowned both in the Boyne
And partition thrown into the ocean

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SEVEN DRUNKEN NIGHTS (1)

As I went home on Monday night
As drunk as drunk could be
I saw a horse outside the door
Where my old horse should be
Well I called me wife and I said to her
Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that horse outside the door
Where my old horse should be

Oh you're drunk youre drunk you silly old fool
Still you cannot see
That's a lovely sow that me mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I've travelled
A hundred miles or more
But a saddle on a sow sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Tuesday night
As drunk as drunk could be
I saw a coat behind the door
Where my old coat should be
Well I called me wife and I said to her
Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that coat behind the door
Where my old coat should be

Oh you're drunk you're drunk you silly old fool
Still you cannot see
Thats a wollen blanket that me mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I've travelled
A hundred miles or more
But buttons on a blanket sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Wednesday night
As drunk as drunk could be
I saw a pipe upon the chair
Where my old pipe should be
Well I called me wife and I said to her
Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that pipe upon the chair
Where my old pipe should be

Oh you're drunk you're drunk you silly old fool
Still you cannot see
That's a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I've travelled
A hundred miles or more
But tobacco in a tin whistle sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Thursday night
As drunk as drunk could be
I saw two boots beneath the bed
Where my old boots should be
Well I called me wife and I said to her
Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns them boots beneath the bed
Where my old boots should be

Oh you're drunk you're drunk you silly old fool
Still you cannot see
They're two lovely geranium pots me mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I've travelled
A hundred miles or more
But laces in geranium pots I never saw before

And as I went home on Friday night
As drunk as drunk could be
I saw a head upon the bed
Where my old head should be
Well I called me wife and I said to her
Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that head upon the bed
Where me old head should be

Oh you're drunk you're drunk you silly old fool
Still you cannot see
That's a baby boy that me mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I've travelled
A hundred miles or more
But a baby boy with whiskers on sure I never saw before

As I went home on Saturday night
As drunk as drunk could be
I saw two hands upon her breasts
Where me two hands should be
Well I called my wife and I said to her
Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that hands upon your breasts
Were me two hands should be

Oh you're drunk you're drunk you silly old fool
Still you cannot see
That's a lovely night gown that me mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I travelled
A hundred miles and more
But fingers in a night gown sure I never saw before

As I went home on Sunday night
As drunk as drunk could be
I saw a thing in her thing
Where me old thing should be
Well I called my wife and I said to her
Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that thing in your thing
Where me old thing should be

Oh you're drunk you're drunk you silly old fool
Still you cannot see
That's that lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I travelled
A hundred miles and more
But hair on a tin whistle sure I never saw before

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SEVEN DRUNKEN NIGHTS (2)

As I went home on Monday night, as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a horse outside the door, where my old horse should be
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
who owns that horse outside the door, where my old horse should be?
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
That's a lovely sow that my mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more
but a saddle on a sow, sure, I never saw before

As I went home on Tuesday night, as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a coat behind the door, where my old coat should be
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
who owns that coat behind the door, where my old coat should be?
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
That's a woolen blanket that my mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more
but buttons on a blanket, sure, I never saw before

As I went home on Wednesday night, as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a pipe upon the chair, where my old pipe should be
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
who owns that pipe upon the chair where my old pipe should be
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
That's a lovely tin-whistle, that my mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more
but tobacco in a tin-whistle, sure, I never saw before

As I came home on Thursday night, as drunk as drunk could be
I saw two boots beside the bed, where my old boots should be
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
who owns them boots beside the bed where my old boots should be
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
They're two lovely flower pots my mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more
but laces in flower pots I never saw before

As I came home on Friday night, as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a head upon the bed, where my old head should be
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
who owns that head upon the bed, where my old head should be
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
That's a baby boy, that my mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more
but a baby boy with his whiskers on, sure, I never saw before

As I came home on a Saturday night, as drunk as drunk could be
I spied two hands upon her breasts, where my old hands should be
I called to my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who's hands are these upon your breasts, where my old hands should be?
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
'Tis nothing but a Living Bra Jane Russell gave to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
but fingernails on a Living Bra, I never saw before

Now when I came home on Sunday night, a little after three
I saw a man running out the door with his pants about his knee
So I called to my wife and I said to her: would you kindly tell to me
who was that man running out the door with his pants about his knee?
Oh you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
Twas nothing but the tax collector the Queen sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled, a hundred miles or more
But an Englishman that could last 'till three I never saw before

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SHORES OF AMERIKAY, THE

I'm bidding farewell to the land of my youth
and the home I love so well
And the mountains so grand round my own native land
I'm bidding them all farewell
With an aching heart I'll bid them adieu
for tomorrow I'll sail far away
O'er the raging foam for to seek a home
on the shores of Amerikay

It's not for the want of employment I'm going
It's not for the love of fame
That fortune bright, may shine over me
and give me a glorious name
It's not for the want of employment I'm going
o'er the weary and stormy sea
But to seek a home for my own true love
on the shores of Amerikay

And when I am bidding my last farewell
the tears like rain will blind
To think of my friends in my own native land
and the home I'm leaving behind
But if I'm to die in a foreign land
and be buried so far far away
No fond mother's tears will be shed o'er my grave
on the shores of Amerikay
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Shanagolden

The cold winds from the mountains are calling soft to me,
The smell of scented heather brings bitter memories:
And the wild and lonely eagle sweeps high up in the sky
O'er the fields of Shanagolden, where my young Willie died.

I met him in the wintertime, when the snow was on the ground.
The Dorsai hills were peaceful, and love was all around.
He was scarce nineteen years old, a young man fine and brave.
We were married, me and Willie, on the morn of New Year's Day.

The came the call to arms, and the hills they were in flame.
Down from the silent heavens, the Terran strangers came.
I held his in my arms, then, my young heart wild with fear,
In the fields near Shanagolden, in the springtime of the year.

And we fought them, I and Willie, to hold our rooftrees-ground.
You could hear the rifles' firing, in the mountains all around.
I held him in my arms again, and his blood ran free and bright,
And he died near Shanagolden, on a moonlit summer night.

But that was long ago, now, and our son grows fine and strong;
The Dorsai hills are at peace again: the Terran stangers gone.
We'll place a red rose on the grave, in the silvery pale moonlight,
And I'll dream of Shanagolden, on a lonely autumn night.

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Sing, Irishman, Sing!

I dream of a beautiful picture
No more need we think of the past
They're singing and dancing in Ireland
And the people are happy at last.

Sing, Irishman, sing
So the sound of your voices will ring
And let the world know, it really is so
Sing, Irishman, sing.

There's laughter in Belfast and Derry
The music rings over the land
In Calvin, Kilkenny and Kerry.
Oh, boys, I can tell you, it's grand.

No more need little ones suffer
The rifles will bring no more pain
They're singing and dancing in Ireland
And the people are happy again.

I know that it's only a dream now
But my hopes will always remain
To see the sun shine over Ireland
And the people are happy again.

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SHULE AGRA

With fife and drum he marched away
He would not heed what I did say
He'll not come back for many a day
Johnny has gone for a soldier

Chorus:
Shule shule shule shule agra
Sure a sure and he loves me
When he comes back he'll marry me
Johnny has gone for a soldier

I'll go up on Portland hill
And there I'll sit and cry my fill
And every tear should turn a mill
Johnny has gone for a soldier

I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel
I'll sell my flax and spinning wheel
To buy my love a sword of steel
Johnny has gone for a soldier

I'll dye my petticoats crimson red
Through the world I'll beg my bread
I'll find my love alive or dead
Johnny has gone for a soldier

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SKIBBEREEN (1)

O, Father dear, I ofttimes heard you talk of Erin's Isle
Her valleys green, her lofty scene, her mountains rude and wild
You said it was a pleasant place wherein a prince might dwell
Why have you then forsaken her, the reason to me tell?

My son, I loved our native land with energy and pride
Until a blight fell on the land and sheep and cattle died
The rents and taxes were to pay, I could not them redeem
And that's the cruel reason why I left Old Skibbereen

It's well I do remember on a bleak November's day
The landlord and his agent came to drive us all away
He set my house on fire with his demon yellow spleen
And that's another reason why I left Old Skibbereen

Your mother, too, God rest her soul, lay on the snowy ground
She fainted in her anguish of the desolation round
She never rose, but went her way from life to death's long dream
And found a quiet grave, my boy, in lovely Skibbereen

It's well I do remember the year of forty-eight
When we arose with Erin's boys to fight against our fate
I was hunted through the mountains as a traitor to the Queen
And that's another reason that I left Old Skibbereen

Oh father dear, the day will come when vengeance loud will call
And we'll arise with Erin's boys and rally one and all
I'll be tbe man to lead the van, beneath our flag of green
And loud and high we'll raise the cry, "Revenge for Skibbereen!"

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SKIBBEREEN (2)

Oh father dear, I oft-times hear you speak of Erin's isle
Her lofty hills, her valleys green, her mountains rude and wild
They say she is a lovely land wherein a saint might dwell
So why did you abandon her, the reason to me tell?

Oh son, I loved my native land with energy and pride
Till a blight came o'er the praties; my sheep, my cattle died
My rent and taxes went unpaid, I could not them redeem
And that's the cruel reason why I left old Skibbereen

Oh well do I remember that bleak December day
The landlord and the sheriff came to take us all away
They set my roof on fire with their cursed English spleen
I heaved a sigh and bade goodbye to dear old Skibbereen

Your mother too, God rest her soul, fell on the stony ground
She fainted in her anguish seeing desolation 'round
She never rose but passed away from life to immortal dream
She found a quiet grave, me boy, in dear old Skibbereen

And you were only two years old and feeble was your frame
I could not leave you with my friends for you bore your father's name
I wrapped you in my cóta mór in the dead of night unseen
I heaved a sigh and bade goodbye to dear old Skibbereen

Oh father dear, the day will come when in answer to the call
All Irish men of freedom stern will rally one and all
I'll be the man to lead the band beneath the flag of green
And loud and clear we'll raise the cheer, Revenge for Skibbereen!

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SLANE (BE THOU MY VISION)

Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart
Naught be all else to me save that thou art
Thou my best thought by day or by night
Waking or sleeping thy presence my light

Be thou my wisdom, thou my true word
I ever with thee, thou with me, Lord
Thou my great Father, I thy true Son
Thou in me dwelling, and I with thee one

Be thou my battleshield, sword for the fight
Be thou my dignity, thou my delight
Thou my soul's shelter, thou my high tower
Raise thou me heavenward, O power of my power

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise
Thou mine inheritance, now and always
Thou and thou only, first in my heart
High King of heavem, my treasure thou art

High King of heaven, after victory won
May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heaven's sun
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall
Still be my vision, O ruler of all

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SLIEVENAMON

Alone, all alone, by the wave-washed strand
All alone in the crowded hall
The hall it is gay, and the waves they are grand
But my heart is not here at all
It flies far away, by night and by day
To the times and the joys that are gone
But I never will forget the sweet maiden I met
In the valley of Slievenamon

It was not the grace of her queenly aire
Nor her cheek of the rose's glow
Nor her soft black eyes, not her flowing hair
Nor was it her lily white brow
Twas the soul of truth, and of melting ruth
And the smile like a summer dawn
That sold my heart away on a soft summer day
In the valley of Slievenamon

In the festival hall, by the star-washed shore
Ever my restless spirit cries
"My love, oh, my love, shall I ne'er see you more
And my land, will you never uprise?"
By night and by day, I ever, ever pray
While lonely my life flows on
To see our flag unfurled and my true love to enfold
In the valley of Slievenamon

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Snipers promise

The night was icy cold I stood along
I was waiting for an army foot patrol
And when at last they came into my site
I squeezed the trigger of my armalite

Oh Mama, oh Mama comfort me
For I know these things have got to be
But when the war for freedom has been won
I promise you I'll put away my gun.

A shot rang out, I heard a soldier cry
"Oh please don't leave me here alone to die"
I realized his patrol had run away
And left their wounded comrade for me to slay.

"There's nothing in this world I would not do
If there's mercy in your heart you'll let me live"
And in his eyes I saw a look of pain
As the mussel of my gun moved towards his brain.

The dawn was breaking as I reached my base
I will not forget the look on that boy's face
Fear, agony, and torment where all there
Oh but to your memory, mother, his life I spared.

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SNOWY BREASTED PEARL, THE

There's a colleen fair as May
For a year and for a day
I have sought by every way
Her heart to gain
There's no art of tongue or eye
Fond youths with maidens try
But I've tried with ceaseless sigh
Yet tried in vain

If to France or far off Spain
She crossed the wat'ry main
To see her face again the seas I'd brave
And if it's heaven's decree
That mine she'll never be
May the Son of Mary me in mercy save

But a kiss with welcome bland
And the touch of thy fair hand
Are all that I demand
Would'st thou not spurn
For if not mine, dear girl
My snowy breasted pearl
May I never from the fair
With life return

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SPANCIL HILL

Last night as I lay dreamin'
Of pleasant days gone by
Me mind bein' bent on travelin'
To Ireland I did fly
I stepped aboard a vision
and followed with my will
'Til next I came to anchor
At the cross near Spancil Hill

Delighted by the novelty
Enchanted with the scene
Where in my early boyhood
Where often I had been
I thought I heard a murmur
And think I hear it still
It's the little stream of water
That flows down Spancil Hill

It being the 23rd of June
The day before the fair
Where Ireland's sons and daughters
In crowds assembled there
The young, the old, the brave and the bold
They came for sport and kill
There were jovial conversations
At the cross near Spancil Hill

I went to see my neighbours
To hear what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone
The others turning grey
I met with tailor Quigley
He's as bold as ever still
Sure he used to make my britches
When I lived in Spancil Hill

I paid a flying visit
To my first and only love
She's white as any lily
And gentle as a dove
She threw her arms around me
Saying Johnny I love you still
She's Meg the farmers daughter
And the pride of Spancil Hill

I dreamt I stooped and kissed her
As in the day of 'ore
She said Johnny you're only joking
As many the times before
The cock crew in the morn'
He crew both loud and shrill
And I woke in California
Many miles from Spancil Hill

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SPANISH LADY, THE

As I went out through Dublin City at the hour of twelve at night,
Who would I see but the Spanish Lady
Washing her feet by candle light
First she washed them then she dried them
O'er a fire of amber coals
In all my life I ne'er did see a maid so sweet about the soul

Chorus:
Whack fol de turalura ladie
Whack fol de turalureley
Whack fol de turalura ladie
Whack fol de turalureley

As I came back through Dublin City at the time of half past eight
Who would I see but the Spanish Lady
Brushing her hair so trim and neat
First she teased it then she brushed it
On her lap was a silver comb
In all my life I ne'er did see so fair a maid since I did roam

Chorus

As I went round old Dublin City when the sun began to set
Who would I spy but the Spanish Lady
Catching a moth in a golden net
When she saw me quick she fled me
Lifting her petticoats over her knee
In all my life I ne'er did see a maid so shy as the Spanish Lady

I stopped to look but the watchman passed says he "young fella now the night is late
Along with you now or I will wrestle you
Straight way throught the Bride-well Gate"
I blew a kiss to the Spanish LAdy
Hot as a fire of my angry coals
In all my life I ne'er did see a maid so sweet about the soul

As I went out through Dublin City as the hour of dawn was over
Who shoul I see but the Spanish Lady
I was lonely and footsore
First she coaxed me then she chid me
Then she laughed at my sad plight
In all my life I ne'er did see a maid so sweet as on that night

I've wandered north and I've wandered south through Stoneybatter and Patrick's Close
Up and around by the Gloucester Diamond
Round by Napper Tandy's house
Old age had laid her hand on me
Cold as fire of ashey coals
But were is the lovely Spanish Lady, neat and sweet about the soul.

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SPINNING WHEEL SONG, THE

Mellow the moonlight to shine is beginning
Close by the window young Eileen is spinning
Bent o'er the fire her blind grandmother sitting
Crooning and moaning and drowsily knitting

Merrily cheerily noiselessly whirring
Spins the wheel, rings the wheel while the foot's stirring
Sprightly and lightly and merrily ringing
Sounds the sweet voice of the young maiden singing

Eileen, a chara, I hear someone tapping
'Tis the ivy dear mother against the glass flapping
Eileen, I surely hear somebody sighing
'Tis the sound mother dear of the autumn winds dying

What's the noise I hear at the window I wonder?
'Tis the little birds chirping, the holly-bush under
What makes you shoving and moving your stool on
And singing all wrong the old song of the "Coolin"?

There's a form at the casement, the form of her true love
And he whispers with face bent, I'm waiting for you love
Get up from the stool, through the lattice step lightly
And we'll rove in the grove while the moon's shining brightly

The maid shakes her head, on her lips lays her fingers
Steps up from the stool, longs to go and yet lingers
A frightened glance turns to her drowsy grandmother
Puts her foot on the stool spins the wheel with the other

Lazily, easily, now swings the wheel round
Slowly and lowly is heard now the reel's sound
Noiseless and light to the lattice above her
The maid steps, then leaps to the arms of her lover

Slower and slower... and slower the wheel swings
Lower... and lower... and lower the reel rings
Ere the reel and the wheel stop their ringing and moving
Through the grove the young lovers by moonlight are roving

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STAR OF THE COUNTY DOWN (1)

Near to Banbridge town, in the County Down
one morning in July
Down a boreen green came a sweet colleen
and she smiled as she passed me by
Oh she looked so neat from her two white feet
to the sheen of her nut-brown hair
Sure the coaxing elf, I'd to shake myself
to make sure I was standing there

Chorus:
Oh from Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay
and from Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the sweet colleen
that I met in the County Down

As she onward sped I shook my head
and I gazed with a feeling queer
And I said, says I, to a passer-by
"Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?"
Oh, he smiled at me and with pride says he:
"That's the gem of Ireland's crown
She's young Rosie McCann, from the banks of the Bann
she's the Star of the County Down"

She'd a soft brown eye and a look so sly
and a smile like the rose in June
And you hung on each note from her lily-white throat
as she lilted an Irish tune
At the pattern dance you were held in trance
as she tripped through a reel or a jig
And when her eyes she'd roll
she'd coax upon my soul a spud from a hungry pig

I've travelled a bit but never was hit
since my roving career began
But fair and square I surrendered thee
to the charm of young Rosie McCann
With a heart to let and no tenant yet
did I meet within shawl or gown
But in she went and I asked no rent
from the Star of the County Down

At the crossroads fair I'll be surely there
and I'll dress in my Sunday clothes
And I'll try sheep's eyes and deludering lies
on the heart of the nut-brown Rose
No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke
though my plough with rust turns brown
Till a smiling bride by my own fireside
sits the Star of the County Down

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STAR OF THE COUNTY DOWN (2)

Near Banbridge town, in the County Down
One morning in July
Down the boreen came a sweet colleen
And she smiled as she passed me by
Oh, she looked so neat from her two bare feet
To the crown of her nut-brown hair
Such a winsome elf, that I pinched myself
To be sure I was really there

Chorus:
From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay
And from Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the sweet colleen
That I met in the County Down

As she onward sped I shook my head
And I gazed with a feeling rare
And I said, says I, to a passer-by
"Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?"
Oh, he smiled at me, and with pride says he
"That's the gem of all Ireland's crown
Young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann
She's the Star of the County Down"

Chorus

At the harvest fair she'll be surely there
And I'll dress in my Sunday clothes
With my shoes shined bright and my hat just right
Win the heart of the nut-brown Rose
No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke
And my plow will rust and brown
'Til a smiling bride by my own fireside
Sits the Star of the County Down

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STEP IT OUT MARY

In the village of Kildoran lived a maiden young and fair
Her eyes, they shone like diamonds, she had long and golden hair
the countryman came riding up to her daddy's gate
mounted on a milk-white stallion, he came at the stroke of eight

Step it out Mary, my fine daughter, step it out Mary if you can
Step it out Mary, my fine daughter, show your legs to the countryman

I have come to court your daughter. Mary of the golden hair
I have gold and I have silver, I have lands beyond compare
I will buy her silks and satins and a gold ring for her hand
I will buy her a mansion, she'll have servants to command

Step it out Mary, my fine daughter, step it out Mary if you can
Step it out Mary, my fine daughter, show your legs to the countryman

Oh kind Sir I have a soldier and I've pledged to him my hand
I don't want your gold nor silver, I don't want your horse nor land
Mary's father spoke up sharply, you will do as you are told
you'll mary him on sunday and you'll wear the ring of gold

Step it out Mary, my fine daughter, step it out Mary if you can
Step it out Mary, my fine daughter, show your legs to the countryman

In the village of Kildoran there's a deep stream running by
They found Mary there on sunday, she had drowned with soldier boy
In the cottage there is music, you can hear her daddy say
Step it out Mary my fine daughter, sunday is your wedding day

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STREETS OF NEW YORK, THE

I was eighteen years old, when I went down to Dublin
with a fistful of money and a cartload of dreams
"Take your time", said me father "stop rushing like hell
And remember all is not what it seems to be
For there's fellows would cut you for the coat on your back
Or the watch that you got from your mother
So take care me young buck-o and mind yourself well
And will you give this wee note to me brother"

At the time Uncle Benjy was a policeman in Brooklyn
And me father the youngest looked after the farm
When a phone call from America said 'Send the lad over'
And the ould fella said sure it wouldn't do any harm
For I spoent my life working this dirty old ground
For a few pints of porter and the smell of a pound
And sure maybe there's something you'll learn or you'll see
And you can bring it back home, make it easy on me

So I landed at Kennedy and a big yellow taxi
Carried me and my bags through the streets and the rain
Well my poor heart was pumping around with excitement
And I hardly even heard what the driver was saying
We came in the short parkway to the flatlands in Brooklyn
To my uncle's apartment on East 53rd
I was feeling so happy I was humming a song
And I sang you're as "Free as a bird"

Well to shorten the story what I found out that day
Was that Benjy got shot in a downtown foray
And while I was flyng my way to New York
Poor Benjy was lying in a cold city morgue
Well I phoned up the ould fella, told him the news
I could tell he could hardly stand up in his shoes
And he wept as he told me, go ahead with the plan
And not to forget to be a proud Irishman

So I went up to Nelly's beside Fordham Road
And I started to learn about lifting the load
But the healthiest thing that I carried that year
Was the bitter sweet thoughts of my home town so dear
I went home that December 'cause the old fella died
Had to borrow the money from Phil on the side
And all the bright flowers and grass couldn't hide
The poor wasted face of my father

I sold up the old farmyard for what it was worth
And into my bag stuck a handful of earth
Then I boarded a train and I caught me a plane
And I found myself back in the U.S. again
It's been twenty-two years since I set foot in Dublin
The kids know to use the correct knife and fork
But I'll never forget the green grass and the rivers
As I keep law and order in the streets of New York

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SULLIVAN'S JOHN

Sullivan's John to the road you've gone, far away from your native home
You've gone with the tinker's daughter far along the road to roam
Sullivan's John sure you won't stick it long when your belly will soon get slack
When you're roaming the road with a mighty load and a toodle box on your back

I met Katey Coffey with her neat baby behind on her back strapped on
She'd an old ash plant all in her hand for to drive her donkey on
Enquiring at every farmer's house that along the road she passed
Where would she find an old pot to mend and where would she swap an ass

There's a hairy ass fair in the County Claire in a place they call Spancil Hill
Where my brother James got a rap on the head and poor Paddy they tried to kill
They loaded him up in an ass and cart while Kate and Mary stood by
Bad luck to the day that I went away to join with the tinkers band

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SUMMER IN DUBLIN

Take me away from the city
And lead me to where I can be on my own
I wanted to see you but now that I have
I just want to be left alone
I'll always remember your kind words
And I'll still remember your name
But I've seen you changing and turning
And I know that things won't be the same

Chorus:
I remember that summer in Dublin
And the Liffey it stank like hell
And the young people walking on Grafton Street
And everyone looking so well
I was singing a song I heard somewhere
Called Rock and Roll Never Forgets
When my hum it was smothered by a 46A
And the scream of a low-flying Jet
So I jumped on a bus to Dun Laoghaire
Stopping off to pick up my guitar
And a drunk on the bus told me how to get rich
I was glad we weren't going too far

So I'm leaving on Wednesday morning
Tryin' to find a place where I can hear
Where the wind and the birds and the sea and the rocks
And where open roads always are near
And if sometimes I tire of the quiet and I want to walk back up that hill
I'll just get on the road and I'll stick out my thumb
I know that you'll be there still

Chorus

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Sunday Bloody Sunday

Well it was Sunday Bloody Sunday
When they shot the people there
The cries of 13 martyrs
Filled the Free Derry air
Is there anyone amongst you
Dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding
When they nailed the coffin lids

Sundy Bloody Sunday
Bloody Sunday´s the day!

You claim to be majority
Well you know that it´s a lie
You´re really a minority
On the sweet Emerald Isle
When Stormont bans our marches
They´ve got a lot to learn
Internment is no answer
It´s those mothers turn to burn

You Anglo pigs and Scotties
Sent to colonise the North
You wave your bloody Union Jacks
And you know what it´s worth
How dare you hold to ransom
A people proud and free
Keep Ireland for the Irish
Put the English back to sea

Yes it´s always bloody Sunday
In the concentration camps
Keep the Falls Road free forever
From the bloody English hands
Repatriate to Britain
All of you who call it home
Leave Ireland to the Irish
Not for London or for Rome!!

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Supergrass

Now when Ireland we rosen up at last
Theres the UDR the Army and the SAS
But the lowest of the low is the foe you do not know
And thats the man they call the supergrass

Singing rifa ter a ludy tera lee
Theres no one who can tell a lie like me
You can search until you tire youll never find a bigger liar
Im the supergrass youve seen me on TV

I can name you people I have never seen
I can tell you places I have never been
For if the moneys right I could tell black was white
I could tell you Gerry Adams loves the queen

Spare a thought for poor Kirkpatrick and for Black
Sure theyre nervous now that Gilmours got the sack
For they put their trust in villains and they took the saxon shillings
Their own hands put the noose around their necks

To my native land I bid a fond farewell
Where Im going is the one thing I wont tell
But Ill keep a watch behind for if anyman should find me
The only place Ill ever go is hell

You might see my face in some exotic bar
In New Zealand or far off Africa
I have no friends or relations I betrayed the Irish nation
Thirty silver pieces doesnt get you far

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THE SOLDIERS OF CUMMAN NA mBANN

All honour to Óglaigh na hÉireann
All praisec to the men of our race
Who in days of betrayal and slavery
Saved Ireland from ruin and disgrace
But do not forget in your praising
Of them and the deeds they have done
Their loyal and true-hearted comrades
The soldiers of Cumman na mBann

They stand for the honour of Ireland
As their sisters in days that have gone
They march with their comrades to freedom
The soldiers of Cumman na mBann

No brave-hearted daughter of Ireland
Who died for her sake long ago
Who stood in the Gap of Danger
Defying assassin and foe
Was ever more valiant or worthy
Of glory and high sounding rann
Than the comrades of Óglaigh na hÉireann
The soldiers of Cumman na mBann

Chorus

High beats the heart of our mother
The day she has longed for is nigh
When the sunlight of joy and of freedom
Shall glow in the eastern sky
And none shall be honoured more proudly
That morning by chieftan and clan
Than the comrades of Óglaigh na hÉireann
The soldiers of Cumman na mBann

Chorus

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SHALL MY SOUL PASS THROUGH OLD IRELAND?

In a dreary Brixton prison
Where an Irish rebel lay
By his side a priest was kneeling
'Ere his soul should pass away
Then he faintly murmered "Father"
As he clasped him by the hand
"Tell me this before I die
Shall my soul pass through Ireland?

Shall my soul pass through old Ireland
Pass through Cork City grand
Shall I see the old cathedral
Where St. Patrick took his stand
Shall I see that little chapel
Where I pledged my heart and hand
Then Father tell me truly
Shall my soul pass through Ireland?

'Twas for loving dear old Ireland
In this prison cell I lie
'Twas for loving dear old Ireland
In this foreign land I'll die
Will you meet my little daughter
Will you make her understand
Then Father tell me truly
Shall my soul pass through Ireland?"

With his heart pure as a lily
And his body sanctified
In that dreary British prison
That brave Irish rebel died
Prayed the priest that wish be granted
As in blessing raised his hand
"Father grant this brave man's prayer
May his soul pass through Ireland"

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Beer Belly band

Irish song lyrics | Besedila irskih pesmi

S

STREAMS OF WHISKEY

THE STREETS OF LONDON

STRONG WOMEN RULE US ALL WITH THEIR TEARS

THE SUN IS BURNING

SUNDAY DRIVER

SWEET THAMES FLOW SOFTLY

SAE WILL WE YET

SAINT BRENDAN'S FAIR ISLE

SAINT BRENDAN'S VOYAGE

SALLY MacLENNANE

SALONIKA

SAM HALL

Skye Boat Song

The Shearin's No For You

The Scotsman

St. Patrick Never Drank

Siuil A Ruin

Scarborough Faire

Satisfied

Some say the Devil is Dead

SAM song

SEAN SOUTH OF GARRYOWEN

SWEET ROSY O'GRADY

Stone Outside Dan Murphy's Door

SHIP'S CARPENTER, THE

SCHOONER FRED DUNBAR

SEA AROUND US, THE

SEVEN DRUNKEN NIGHTS (1)

SEVEN DRUNKEN NIGHTS (2)

SHORES OF AMERIKAY, THE

Shanagolden

Sing, Irishman, Sing!

SHULE AGRA

SKIBBEREEN (1)

SKIBBEREEN (2)

SLANE (BE THOU MY VISION)

SLIEVENAMON

Snipers promise

SNOWY BREASTED PEARL, THE

SPANCIL HILL

SPANISH LADY, THE

SPINNING WHEEL SONG, THE

STAR OF THE COUNTY DOWN (1)

STAR OF THE COUNTY DOWN (2)

STEP IT OUT MARY

STREETS OF NEW YORK, THE

SULLIVAN'S JOHN

SUMMER IN DUBLIN

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Supergrass

THE SOLDIERS OF CUMMAN NA mBANN

SHALL MY SOUL PASS THROUGH OLD IRELAND?

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