Some stuff

Forum » The World / History » Some stuff

Started by:

Zyanya
Date: 23 Sep 2008 20:31
Number of posts: 1

RSS: New posts

Unfold All Fold All More Options

Fold

Some stuff

Zyanya 23 Sep 2008 20:31

A Breath of Peace

Adrian Fox
This song is for all the violent dead
Who know eternal peace
United Forever for all the families
Who grieve the slaughtered fleece.

Ulsterman rise from your knees and
Feel this peaceful breeze
Hope uniting hearts and minds with
Forgiving Irish ease.

Weep no more the violent dead
Lay flowered prayer on eternal beds
Inhale this peace into your lungs
No more bullets no more guns.

And your breath will fall upon Ireland
And you will know that breath of peace
Is yours.

Death comes to us all like
A bullet to the head.
Life come to us all with
The aftertaste of lead.

So take take that hatred from your heart
And recognise your brother and your father
That that bitterness from your throat
And spit it to the gutter,

Knowing that you have cut down
innocent sons and daughters
Then your filth will filter through
Polluted Irish waters,

And your breath will fall upon Ireland
And you will know that breath of peace
Is yours.

A Day In Eirinn

Michael Scanlan
Four gleaming scythes in the sunshine swaying,
Through the deep hush of a summer´s day,
Before their edges four stout men sweeping
In tuneful measure the fragrant hay.
Myself the fourth of them, strong and happy,
My keen blue steel moving fast and free.
Ah! Little then was the broadest meadow
And light the heaviest scythe to me!

O King of Glory! What a change is o´er me
Since the young blood thrilled me long, long ago,
And each day found me with the sunshine round me
And the tall grass falling to my every blow.
O´er the dewy meadows came the cailín´s voices,
Ringing glad and merry as they raked the hay.
Oh! The hours pass quickly as a beam of sunshine
When the years are rosy and the heart is gay.

Like fairy minstrels, the bees a-humming
Went honey-seeking from flower to flower;
Like golden berries in the distance gleaming,
I´ve watched and listened to them hour by hour.
And the butterflies on the sunbeams riding,
With wings surpassing e´en the blush of dawn,
Or like fairy jewels, full of light and splendour
On the golden crown of the buachalán.

The blackbird´s lay in the woods rang clearly,
The thrush´s notes echoed far and high,
While the lark´s full song, like a bell´s vibration
Comes floating down from the midmost sky.
From his leafy station the linnet lifted
His little voice in the hazel glen,
And O God of Grace, was not life a pleasure,
In our green and beautiful Eirinn then!

A Jug Of Punch

Traditional
One pleasant evening in the month of June
As I was sitting with my glass and spoon
A small bird sat on an ivy bunch
And the song he sang was "The Jug Of Punch"

Too ra loo ra loo, too ra loo ra lay, too ra loo ra loo, too ra loo ra lay
A small bird sat on an ivy bunch
And the song he sang was "The Jug Of Punch"

What more diversion can a man desire?
Than to sit him down by an alehouse fire
Upon his knee a pretty wench
And on the table a jug of punch

Too ra loo ra loo, too ra loo ra lay, too ra loo ra loo, too ra loo ra lay
Upon his knee a pretty wench
And on the table a jug of punch

Let the doctors come with all their art
They'll make no impression upon my heart
Even a cripple forgets his hunch
When he's snug outside of a jug of punch

Too ra loo ra loo, too ra loo ra lay, too ra loo ra loo, too ra loo ra lay
Even a cripple forgets his hunch
When he's snug outside of a jug of punch

And if I get drunk, well, the money's me own
And if them don't like me they can leave me alone
I'll chung me fiddle and I'll rosin me bow
And I'll be welcome wherever I go

Too ra loo ra loo, too ra loo ra lay, too ra loo ra loo, too ra loo ra lay
I'll chung me fiddle and I'll rosin me bow
And I'll be welcome wherever I go

And when I'm dead and in my grave
No costly tombstone will I have
Just lay me down in my native peat
With a jug of punch at my head and feet

Too ra loo ra loo, too ra loo ra lay, too ra loo ra loo, too ra loo ra lay
Just lay me down in my native peat
With a jug of punch at my head and feet

A Man's A Man

Robert Burns
Is there for honest poverty
That hings his heed and a' that
The coward slave we pass him by
We dare be poor for a' that
For a' that and a' that
Our toils obscure and a' that
The rank is but the guinea's stamp
The mands the gowd for a' that

What tho' on hamely fare we dine
Wear hoddin-gray and a' that
Gie fools their silks and knaves their wine
A mands a man for a' that
For a' that and a' that
Their tinsel show and a' that
The honest man tho' e'er sae poor
Is king o' men for a' that

Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord
Wha struts and stares and a' that
Tho' hundreds worship at his word
He's but a coof for a' that
For a' that and a' that
His riband, star and a' that
The man o' independent mind
He looks and laughs at a' that

A prince can mak a belted knight
A marquis, duke and a' that
But an honest mands aboon his might
Guid faith he mauna fa' that
For a' that and a' that
Their dignities and a' that
The pith o' sense and pride o' worth
Are higher rank than a' that

Then let us pray that come it may
As come it will and a' that
That sense and worth o'er a' the earth
Shall bear the gree and a' that
For a' that and a' that
It's coming yet for a' that
That man to man the warld o'er
Shall brothers be for a' that
For a' that and a' that
It's coming yet for a' that
That man to man the warld o'er
Shall brothers be for a' that

A Nation Once Again

When boyhoods fire was in my blood I read of ancient men
For Greece and Rome who bravely stood three hundred and three me
And than I prayed I yet might see our fetters rent in twain
And Ireland long a province be a nation once again

And from that time through wildest woe that I hope was shone afar light
Nor could love's brightest summer grow outshine that solemn starlight
It seemed to watch above my head inform field and fane
Its angel voice sang round my bed a nation once again

It whispered too that freedoms ark and service high and holy
Would be profound by feelings dark and passions vain or lowly
For freedom comes from gods right hand and needs a godly train
And righteous men must make our land a nation once again

So as I grew from boy to man I bent me to that bidding
My spirit of each a selfish plan and cruel passion ridding
For thus I hoped some day to aid oh can such hope be in vain
When my dear country shall be made a nation once again.

A Rebel Song

James Connolly
Come workers, sing a rebel song, a song of love and hate,
Of love unto the lowly, and of hatred to the great
The great who trod our fathers down, who steal our childrens bread,
Whose hand of greed is stretched to rob the living and the dead

Then sing our rebel song, as we proudly sweep along
To end the age-long tyranny that makes for human tears
Our march is nearer done with each setting of the sun,
And the tyrants might is passing with the passing of the years.

We sing no song of wailing, and no song of sights or tears,
High are our hopes and stout our hearts, and banished all our fears
Our flag is raised above us so that all the world may see
'Tis Labour's faith and Labours arm alone can labour free.

Out from the depths of misery we march with hearts aflame,
With wrath against the rulers false who wreck our menhoods name
The serf who licks his tyrants rod may bend forgiving knee.
The slave who breaks his slaverys chain a wrathful man must be.

Our army marches onward with its face towards the dawn,
In trust secure in that one thing the slave may lean upon,
The might within the arm of him who, knowing freedom's worth,
Strikes home to banish tyranny from off the face of earth

A Soldier's Song

Peadar Kearney
We'll sing a song, a soldier's song
With cheering, rousing chorus
As round our blazing fires we throng,
The starry heavens o'er us;
Impatient for the coming fight,
And as we await the morning's light
Here in the silence of the night
We'll chant a soldier's song.

Soldiers are we, whose lives are pledged to Ireland
Some have come from a land beyond the waves.
Sworn to be free, no more our ancient sireland
Shall shelter the despot or the slave;
Tonight we man the bearna baoghal
In Erin's cause, come woe or weal;
'Mid cannon's roar and rifle's peal
We'll chant a soldier's song.

In valley green or towering crag
Our fathers fought before us,
And conquered 'neath the same old flag
That's proudly floating o'er us,
We're children of a fighting race
That never yet has known disgrace,
And as we march the foe to face,
We'll chant a soldier's song.

Sons of the Gael! Men of the Pale!
The long watched day is breaking;
The serried ranks of Innisfail
Shall set the tyrant quaking.
Our camp fires now are burning low;
See in the east a silv'ry glow,
Out yonder waits the Saxon foe,
So chant a soldier's song.

A Song Of The Loyal Irish

Brian O'Higgins
Boys, O Boys! Listen here to me,
We´re going to live in a State that´s Free,
Good English citizens all we´ll be;
And friends of the Princess Royal;
If we only flop on our hands and knees
And swear by George of the lands and seas
To wipe the green from the Irish trees
And for evermore be loyal.

We´ll welcome George with a slavish smile
We´ll greet him in real colonial style,
Back out of his presence half a mile,
Like English Whigs and Tories;
We´ll damn the deeds of the true and brave
Who are sleeping in many an Irish grave
Bow down like beggars and humbly crave
For a share in England´s glories.

We´ll curse the name of the rebel Tone,
And of every rebel our land has known
And all who hated the English throne,
And fought for the Irish Nation,
We´ve torn up every oath and vow,
We´re part of the civilised Empire now,
And the annals of England will teach us how
To make sure of our soul´s salvation!

All hail the glorious Union Jack!
(Though steeped in the blood of the white and the black)
We´ll paste it to Ireland´s bended back
To prove to the world she´s loyal;
We´ll stifle her voice, we´ll drown her cries,
We´ll blacken her face with loyal lies,
Throw royal dust in her angry eyes
And hooray for George the Royal!

A Walk in the Irish Rain

S Spurgin
When the sun goes down o'er Dublin town
The colors last for hours, oh
The lights come on, the night's a song
And the streets all turn to gold.

A gentle mist all heaven kissed
Like teardrops off an angel's wing
Don't you know you'll cleanse your soul
With a walk in the Irish rain.

Oh, Katherine, take my hand
I've got three pounds and change
And I'll sing you songs of love again
And when I get too drunk to sing
We'll walk in the Irish rain.

Forever more I've stepped ashore
My sailing days are over, oh
Through time and tide and by your side
Together we'll grow old.

Oh, Katherine, take my hand
I've got three pounds and change
And I'll sing you songs of love again
And when I get too drunk to sing
We'll walk in the Irish rain.

I threw my sea bag in the bin
And brought these pretty flowers home
Kiss me Kate, we'll celebrate
Before the bloom is gone.

Oh, Katherine, take my hand
I've got three pounds and change
And I'll sing you songs of love again
And when I get too drunk to sing
We'll walk in the Irish rain.

A tinker and a tailor and a drunken old sailor
They all get together and they start to play
Time stands still while they sing their fill
They'll shout 'til the break of day.

Oh, Katherine, take my hand
I've got three pounds and change
And I'll sing you songs of love again
And when I get too drunk to sing
We'll walk in the Irish rain.

A sweet little lady with a glass of stout
Sippin' it down 'til the foam runs out
She'll help her old man home again
With a walk in the Irish rain.

Oh, Katherine, take my hand
I've got three pounds and change
And I'll sing you songs of love again
And when I get too drunk to sing
We'll walk in the Irish rain.

Abide with me

Abide with me fast falls the evening tide
The darkness deepens lord with me abide
When others helpers fail and comforts flee
Help of the helpless o abide with me

Swift to its close ebbs out of life’s little day
Earths joys grow dim its glories pass away
Change and decay in all around I see
O thou who changes not abide with me

I need thy presence every passing hour
What but thy grace can foil the tempters power?
Who like thyself my guide and stay can be
Thru cloud and sunshine o abide with me

I fear no foe with thee at hand to bless
An ill have no weight and tears no bitterness
Where is deaths sting where grave thy victory
I triumph still in thou abide with me

Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes
Shine thru the gloom and point me to the skies
Heav’ns mourning breaks and earth’s vain shadows flee
In life, in death o lord abide with me

Acushla Mine

(Tune- London Derry Air)
Acushla mine, the singing birds are calling
The call of love that meant for lovers true
Tis autumn time and where the leaves are falling
Alone I wait to beg a word with you.
Tis of my love, my I would be pleading
Around my heart your fingers you entwine
The birds above they know how much I’m needing
One little word to bid me hope, Acushla Mine

Acushla mine, your lips are ever sailing
They smile their way into my longing heart
Your roguish eyes to me are so beguiling
I pray the saints that never we may part
When winter comes and all the world in dreary
The sun and stars no longer seem to shine
The world is dark and I am sad and weary
Tis then I need you most of all, Acushla Mine

Acushla mine when birds again are singing
Their mating song and all the land is gay
When at the church the wedding bells are ringing
Mayoureen dear, twill be a happy day
And thru the years no matter what the weather
Around my heart your love will entwine
We’ll wander on, as long as we’re together
And wander into paradise, Acushla Mine.

All For Me Grog

Chorus
And it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog
All for me beer and tobacco
For I spent all me tin on the lassies drinking gin
Far across the western ocean I must wander

Where are me boots, me noggin', noggin' boots?
They're all gone for beer and tobacco
For the heels they are worn out
And the toes are kicked about
And the soles are looking out for better weather

Chorus

Where is me shirt, my noggin', noggin' shirt?
It's all gone for beer and tobacco
For the collar is all worn,
And the sleeves they are all torn
And the tail is looking out for better weather

Chorus
And it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog
All for me beer and tobacco
For I spent all me tin on the lassies drinking gin
Far across the western ocean I must wander

I'm sick in the head and I haven't been to bed
Since first I came ashore with me slumber
For I spent all me dough on the lassies movin' slow
Far across the Western Ocean I must wander

Chorus x 2

All for the Bull (All for me grog)

Chorus:
All for the bull, the bonnie bonnie bull
All for a bull out of Ulster
That our queen the Royal Medb her command to us
She gave for to field the biggest army we could muster

What is the bull the bonnie bonnie bull the bull
That we all know in Tara
Said the Queen unto Kino I’ve more
Bull than you can sling and we’ll sling it all the
Way to Connemara

Where is my sword my noggin noggin sword
Gone for a bull out of Ulster to the battlefield it went
Now the blade is badly bent and between the blood
And sweat it’s gotten rusted

Where is my spear my noggin noggin spear
Gone for a bull out of Ulster
Oh the point and shaft are broke where I drove it
Thru the cloak of a great Ulidon bloke to out his bluster

Where is my shield my noggin noggin shield
Gone for the bull out of Ulster
Oh I took it to the war now it’s soaked in guts and gore
And most ev’ry part is tore and bent and busted

Oh I’m cut in the head and half my friends are dead
Gone for the bull out of Ulster
But for the glory that we had we could never long be sad
And we’ll find more fighting lads to fill
The roster

All song is sung

Stefan Arndt
The fire is out, we lost our name
But the ghost of our friends to us remain
Pale in the dark
Here was never a god
But we smile with a bleeding heart

Discoloured leaves are falling down
The deadly seeds are sawn
The clay is vile beneath our feed
Hope and love is all we need

The day is done
All song is sung
The hour of lead has just begun
Why should the world be overwise
In counting all our tears and sighs

All the leaves have fallen down
Now, the deadly seeds are grown
Pale in the dark
Here was never a god
But we smile with a bleeding heart

The day is done
All song is sung
The hour of lead has just begun
Why should the world be overwise
In counting all our tears and sighs

Amazing grace

Amazing grace how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me,
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind but now I see

Twas grace that taught my hear to fear
And grace my fears relieved
How precious did that grace appear?
The hour I first believed

The lord has promised good to me
His word my hope secures
He will be my shield
And portion be as long as life endures

Thru many dangers toils and snares
I have already come
Tis grace that brought me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home

When we’ve been there ten thousand years
Bright shinning as the sun
We’ve no less days to sing god’s praise
Than when we’ve first begun

An alarc'h

Traditional
(from Breizh, in Brezhoneg language)
Un alarc'h, un alarc'h tra mor (bis)
War lein tour moal kastell Arvor

Dinn, dinn, daoñ, d'an emgann,
d'an emgann, o !
Dinn, dinn, daoñ, d'an emgann ez an

Neventi vad d'ar Vretoned
Ha mallozh ruz d'ar C'hallaoued

Erru ul lestr e pleg ar mor
E ouelioù gwenn gantañ digor

Degoue'et an Aotrou Yann en-dro
Digoue'et eo da ziwall e vro

D'hon diwall diouzh ar C'hallaoued
A vac'hom war ar Vretoned

Ken e laosker ur youc'hadenn
A ra d'an aod ur grenadenn

Ken e son ar menezioù Laz
Ha froen, ha trid ar gazeg c'hlas

Ken e kan laouen ar c'hleier
Kant lev tro-war-dro, e pep kêr

Deut eo an heol, deut eo an hañv
Deut eo en-dro an Aotrou Yann

An Aotrou Yann a zo paotr mat
Ken prim e droad hag e lagad

Laezh ur Vreizhadez a sunos
Ul laezh ken yac'h evel gwin kozh

Luc'h a daol e c'hoaf p'hen horell,
Ken e vrumenn an neb a sell

Pa c'hoari kreñv, ken kreñv e tarc'h
Ken e taouhanter den ha marc'h

Darc'h atav, dalc'h mat, aotrou dug,
Dav warnehe! ai-ta! bug-ho! bug!

Neb a drouc'h 'vel a douc'hez-te
N'en deus aotrou nemet Doue!

Dalc'homp, Bretoned, dalc'homp mat !
Arsav na truez ! gwad oc'h gwad !

Itron Varia Breizh, skoaz da vro!
Fest erbedenner, fest a vo!

Dare' ar foenn; piv a falc'ho?
Dare' an ed; piv a vedo?

Ar foenn, an ed, piv o fako?
Ar roue gav' gantañ 'raio

Dont a ray a-benn ur gaouad
Gant ur falc'h arc'hant da falc'hat

Gant ur falc'h arc'hant er bro-ni,
Ha gant ur falz aour da vediñ

Mar plije gant ar C'hallaoued
Daoust hag int mank ar Vretoned?

Mar plije gant 'n Aotrou roue
Daoust hag-eñ eo den pe Zoue?

Skrignañ 'ra bleizi Breizh-Izel
O klevet embann ar brezel

O klevet ar youc'h, e yudont
Gant c'hwezh ar C'hallaoued e reont

En heñchoù, e-berr a welour
O redek ar gwad evel dour

Ken yey ruz-glaou brusk an houidi
Hag ar wazi gwenn o neuiñ

Muioc'h a dammoù goaf, e sklent,
Eget skoultroù goude barr-went;

Ha muioc'h a bennoù-marv,
Eget e karnelioù ar vro

Paotred Bro-C'hall 'lec'h ma kouezhint
Betek deiz ar varn e c'hourve'int

Betek deiz ar varn hag ar fust,
Gant an Trubard a ren ar rustl

An diveradur eus ar gwez
'Ray dour benniget war e vez !

Enor, enor d'ar gwenn-ha-du
Ha d'ar C'hallaoued mallozh ruz !

An cailín deas óg

Traditional
An cailín deas óg a bhfuil mé ar a tóir,
Mo chreach mhaidne brón ní castar liom í,
Tráth théim go tigh a óil, chuig damhsa, nó spórt,
Ach leanfad sa ród í ar uair an mheán oích’.

Curfá
Mar is tusa an fear óg a shiúlfas go leor,
Faigh domhsa seod a bheas agam mar mhaoi,
Ná santaigh go deo maoin chaorach nó bó,
Ach inseoidh mé an nós duit ina dtógfaidh tú í.

Bíodh sí lách óg gan mhairg gan ghruaim,
Stuama go leor ar gach uile sheort ní,
Tuicsneach ró-dheas gan an iomarca bróid,
Siúd í mo stóirín da mbéadh sí gan pingin.

Curfá
Mar is tusa an fear óg a shiúlfas go leor,
Faigh domhsa seod a bheas agam mar mhaoi,
Ná santaigh go deo maoin chaorach nó bó,
Ach inseoidh mé an nós duit ina dtógfaidh tú í.

Bíodh sí gan smál i gclú is i gcáil,
Glan ina croí agus séimh ina méin,
Gan gangaid nó gráin i mbriathra a béil
Is aoibh ar a h-éadan ó mhaidin go h-oích’

Curfá
Mar is tusa an fear óg a shiúlfas go leor,
Faigh domhsa seod a bheas agam mar mhaoi,
Ná santaigh go deo maoin chaorach nó bó,
Ach inseoidh mé an nós duit ina dtógfaidh tú í.
Ach inseoidh mé an nós duit ina dtógfaidh tú í.

An Cailín Gaelach

Traditional
B'aite liom féin a bheith 'r thaobh mala shléibhe
'Gus cailín Gaelach a bheith 'mo chomhair
Bheinn dá bréagadh 's a' teannadh léithe
'Gus dar liom féin 'riú gur dheas ár ndóigh

'G éirí dom féin ar maidín an lae ghil
'S mé gabháil fáin choill chraobhaigh 's mé a' seoladh bó
Tharla dom a' spéirbhean 'na suí ar a' léana
'S a fallaing léithe 's í lán de chnónn'

D'fhiafraigh mé dithe go ciúin 's go céillí
'An nglacfaidh tú póg uaim a stór mo chroí?'
D'oscail sí a beilín 'gus labhair sí Béarla
'S é duirt sí 'Pray sir, and let me be'

Nach maith an airí ar na buaibh bheith á santú
'Gus bheinnse á seoladh amuigh sa lá
Im agus bainne iad 'theacht a' tsamhraidh
'S mar gheall ar bhólacht a phóstar mná

I would love to be on the mountain side
And to be wed to an Irish girl
I would cajole and hug her
And I think it would always be nice of course

Upon rising at the dawn of a bright day
And going to the thick woods to drive the cows
I met a beautiful girl sitting on the green grass
And her mantle full of nuts

I asked her softly and respectfully
'Will you take a kiss from me, my own true love?'
She opened her little mouth and she spoke English
She said 'Pray sir, and let me be'

Don't the cows deserve to be appreciated
And I could be driving them on through the day
From them comes butter and milk through the summer
And it's because of the cows that maidens marry

An Irish Lullaby

J R Shannon
Over in Killarney
Many years ago,
Me Mither sang a song to me
In tones so sweet and low.
Just a simple little ditty,
In her good ould Irish way,
And l'd give the world if she could sing
That song to me this day.

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don't you cry!
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an Irish lullaby.

Oft in dreams I wander
To that cot again,
I feel her arms a-huggin' me
As when she held me then.
And I hear her voice a -hummin'
To me as in days of yore,
When she used to rock me fast asleep
Outside the cabin door.

Aria

Mick O'Brien
I praise you day by day - father in heaven our saviour -
the golden era leaves us now.
Sadness and loneliness on my heart -
happiness and delight on my thoughts.
A new season on the horizon - long is the day - long is the night.
Praise youth - and it will always be there.

Aulde Lang Syne

Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne

Chorus:
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We’ll take a cup of kindness, yes
For auld lang syne

We twa ha’e run a bout the braes
And pu’d the gowans fine
But we’ve wandered mony a weary foot
Sin auld lang syne

We twa ha’e paidl’t in the burn
Frae morning sun till dine
But seas between us braid ha’e roar’d
Sin auld lang syne

And here’s a hand my trusty freen’
And gie’s a hand o’ thine
And we’ll take a right gude willy waight
For auld lang syne

An surely ye’ll be your pint stoup
As surely I’ll be mine
And we’ll take a cup of kindness yet
For auld lang syne

Avondale

Chorus
Oh have you been to Avondale and lingered in it’s lovely vale
Where tall trees whisper and know the tale of Avondale’s proud eagle

Where pride and ancient glory fade so was the land where he was laid
Like Christ, was thirty pieces paid for Avondale’s proud eagle

Chorus

Long years that green and lovely vale has nursed Parnell her grandest Gael
And curse the land that has betrayed fair Avondale’s proud eagle

Chorus

Báidin Fheilidhmidh

Traditional
Báidín Fheidhlimidh d'imigh go Gabhla,
Báidín Fheidhlimidh 's Feidhlimidh ann
Báidín Fheidhlimidh d'imigh go Gabhla,
Báidín Fheidhlimidh 's Feidhlimidh ann

Curfá:
Báidín bídeach, Báidín beosach,
Báidín bóidheach, Báidín Fheidhlimidh,
Báidín díreach, Báidín deontach,
Báidín Fheidhlimidh 's Feidhlimidh ann

Báidín Fheidhlimidh d'imigh go Toraigh,
Báidín Fheidhlimidh 's Feidhlimidh ann
Báidín Fheidhlimidh d'imigh go Toraigh,
Báidín Fheidhlimidh 's Feidhlimidh ann

Báidín Fheidhlimidh briseadh i dToraigh í,
Báidín Fheidhlimidh 's Feidhlimidh ann
Báidín Fheidhlimidh briseadh i dToraigh í,
Báidín Fheidhlimidh 's Feidhlimidh ann

Feidhlim's little boat went to Gola,
Feidhlim's little boat and Feidhlim in it,
Feidhlim's little boat went to Gola,
Feidhlim's little boat and Feidhlim in it

Chorus:
A tiny little boat, a lively little boat,
A foolish little boat, Feidhlim's little boat,
A straight little boat, a willing little boat,
Feidhlim's little boat and Feidhlim in it.

Feidhlim's little boat went to Tory,
Feidhlim's little boat and Feidhlim in it,
Feidhlim's little boat went to Tory,
Feidhlim's little boat and Feidhlim in it.

Feidhlim's little boat crashed on Tory,
Feidhlim's little boat and Feidhlim in it,
Feidhlim's little boat crashed on Tory,
Feidhlim's little boat and Feidhlim in it,

Ballad Of St Anne's Reel

David Mallett
He was stranded in some tiny town on fair Prince Edward Island
Waiting for a ship to come and find him
A one horse place, a friendly face, some coffee and a tiny trace
Of fiddlin' in the distance far behind him

A dime across the counter then, a shy hello, a brand new friend
A walk along the street in the wintry weather
A yellow light, an open door, a "Welcome friend, there's room for more"
Soon they're standing there inside together

He said "I've heard that tune before somewhere but I can't remember when
Was it on some other friendly shore, did I hear it on the wind
Was it written on the sky above, I think I heard it from someone I love
But I never heard it sound so sweet since then

How his feet begin to tap, a little boy says "I'll take your hat"
He's caught up in the magic of his smile
Then leaps the heart inside him when and off across the floor he sends
His clumsy body, graceful as a child

He said "There's magic in the fiddler's arms and there's magic in this town
There's magic in the dancers' feet and the way they put them down
Smiling people everywhere, boots and ribbons and locks of hair
Laughter and old blue suits and Easter gowns"

The sailor's gone, the room is bare, the old piano's sitting there
Someone's hat's left hanging on the rack
Some empty chairs, the wooden floor that feels the touch of shoes no more
Waiting for the dancers to come back

And the fiddle's in the closet of some daughter of the town
Strings are broke and the bow is gone and the case is buttoned down
But often on December nights when the air is cold and the wind is right
There's a melody comes passing through this town

Ballad Of The Sea, The

Marc Gunn, Andrew McKee
I walked alone in foggy dew
Just me and my memories
A voice out seaward beckons thru
A whistle of love for me, for me
A whistle of love for me.

T'was two moons 'go her father stole
My love away from me
Arranged to wed a soldier red
My love's gone 'cross the sea, the sea
My love's gone 'cross the sea.

For ten days long our love grew strong
She swore her "love to thee"
Each night up high on mountainside
She'd whistle her love for me, for me
She'd whistle her love for me.

Late one night, my fire alight
Awaiting for her to see
My wait was long, o' what could be wrong
Where could my true love be, love be
Where could my true love be

A light 'cross waters latern glow
Was all mine eyes could see
And from below noise drifted slow
Like a 'gull come back from sea, from sea
Like a 'gull come back from sea.

Her song it haunts me still this day
Notes of uncertainty
If heaven laughs at prayers of mine
Then it never was to be, to be
Then it never was to be.

Bandit Song, The

Westan James
Oh I am a Rover, I roam the land over,
and I'll never settle until I get caught.
From village to township my sword hangs at my hip, an'
you'll never catch me I'll always be sought.

We hold the highways and we hold the hills
steal your silver make off with your tills
call down your kingsmen - we quicken our pace
Drive hard for the forest we live for the chase!

A knave so beguiling that while your still smiling
before you know it I've got all your gold.
And I am so dashing I'll escape the thrashing
so damnably vexing I'll live till I'm old.

We have the forest and we have the moors,
rustle your cattle and take what is yours.
Call the High Sheriff we couldn't care less!
Torture us glady we'll never confess!

No you cannot beat me nor ever defeat me.
I am but a sinner and I have no shame.
To filch all that glimmers purloin all that shimmers.
To nab it and grab it that's our favorite game.

We hold the alley and we hold the night.
We're always ready and willing to fight.
Put all your money right here in the sack!
Just do as we say, there's a knife at your back!

Ah we are hellacious, our greed is voracious
and no one is safe above our plans and schemes
Rogue's from a nightmare, we burgle with great care and
if you can hear this we've stolen your dreams.

We rule the backlands and we know the waste,
sneak into the village and ride off in haste.
We rob and we plunder and sunder and kill,
we wreck and we ruin and threaten with skill.

Yes we're here to scare you to trap and ensnare you,
rakish young devils we scoff at the law!
Remarkably daring, our nostrils a flaring,
make off with yer chattel our plans have no flaw!

We'll take the booty and we'll take the loot!
We all have daggers concealed in our boot.
Call the kings horses and all the lawmen,
we'll just evade them again and again.

Yes we are all blackguards, raise up all the tankards
and drink to the wild ways that led us astray.
Sometimes we are charming but most times alarming,
don't ever forget us or be our next prey!

We hide in shadows and hide behind trees.
We prove that there is no honor among thieves
We'll count up the gain, and you'll count up the loss.
Where is my dagger? In your gullet boss!

So in conclusion we thrive on illusion.
We're all in collusion, keep secrets or die.
We all conspire, around the campfire.
Make plans to go straight, of course I'd never lie.

Battle of Bannockburn

(Jean Smith)
In 1314 we took a little turn
Around the hills an’ heather tee the braes o’ Bannockburn
We took along our pipes an’ we wore our filibegs
An’ we me the bloody British, but they soon took tae their legs

Chorus:
We tuned our drones – a little gentle hummin’
We thocht they’d come tae battle but they turned around tae go
Played one bit tune an’ noo they were a-runnin’
We canna ken the British, they’re an awfu’ flighty foe

Well, we got there first, so we took the higher ground
Leavin’ for our visitors the lovely bogs around
Bruce said it was the thing to tae dae tae save them a’ the climb
As their legs were surely weary noo frae marchin’ a’ the time

So we did a little yellin’ an’ we waved a sword or two
Just limb’rin’ up a bit, ye ken, an’ gettin’ ready noo
But the British seemed tae take it wrong an’ made an awfu’ fuss
You’d think that they had never seen or heard the likes o’ us

Well, we thocht at first that they’d sally forth an’ play
But the sticky mud an’ brambles ‘round them seemed to spoil their day
For their chargers could nae charge an’ their archers could nae draw
So they packed it in an’ a’ went home, they were nae fun at a’

Belfast Brigade

Unknown
Craigavon sent the Specials out,
To shoot the people down,
He thought the IRA were dead,
In dear old Belfast town,
But he got a rude awakening,
With cannon and grenade,
When he met the first Batallion,
Of the Belfast Brigade.

Glory, glory to old Ireland,
Glory, glory to this island,
Glory to the memory of the men
Who fought and died,
"No surrender" is the war cry of
The Belfast Brigade.

The soldiers came from Holywood,
Equipped with English guns,
There were men by the thousand,
Ammunition by the ton,
But when they got to Belfast,
They were seriously delayed,
By the fighting First Batallion
Of the Belfast Brigade.

We have no ammunition,
Or no armoured tanks to show,
But we're ready to defend ourselves,
No matter where we go,
We're out for our Republic,
And to hell with your Free State,
"No surrender" is the War cry
Of the Belfast Brigade.

Come all you gallant Irishmen,
And join the IRA
We'll strike a blow for freedom,
When it comes a certain day,
You know your country's History,
And the sacrifice it made,
Come join the First Batallion
Of the Belfast Brigade.

Black is the Color

Christy Moore
Black is the color of my true love`s hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She`s the sweetest face and the gentlest hands.
I love the ground whereon she stands

I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes.
But some times I whish the day will come
That she and I will be as one

Black is the color of my true love`s hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She`s the sweetest face and the gentlest hands.
I love the ground whereon she stands

I walk to the Clyde for to mourn and weep
But satisfied I never can sleep
I'll write her a letter, just a few short lines
And suffer death ten thousand times

Black is the color of my true love`s hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She`s the sweetest face and the gentlest hands.
I love the ground whereon she stands

Blood all on the grass

Stefan Arndt, Sue Neaves
There´s a thunder on the wind my friend
Today this tale begun
You here the shouts of fightin´ men
And the beatin´ of the drum
We hear a prayer on every breath
Oh lord, let this all pass
There´re shadows on the far hillside
There´s blood all on the grass

The battle shouts are silent now
In the mud these young men lie
The name of their own dear sweetheart
Their last breath as they die
The pike, the sword, the musket all
Performed the deadly task
A lark sings in the clear blue sky
There´s blood all on the grass

There´s mist all on the quiet field
Where the fox and rabbit run
The glowing sky is growing red
With the setting of the sun
And the blood-red river´s running by
Neath the bridge as it does pass
With the lives and the loves of all young men
There´s blood all on the grass

Bold Fenian Men, The

Michael Scanlan
See who comes over the red blossomed heather
Their green banners kissing the pure mountain air
Heads erect eyes front, stepping proudly together
Freedom sits throned on each proud spirit there

Down the hill twining, their blessed steel shining
Like rivers of beauty that flow from each glen
From mountain and valley, 'tis Liberty's rally
Out and make way for the bold Fenian Men!

We've men from the Nore, from the Suir and the Shannon
Let tyrants come forth, we'll bring force against force
Our pen is the sword and our voice is the cannon
Rifle for rifle and horse against horse

We've made the false Saxon yield many a red battlefield
God on our side we will triumph again
Pay them back woe for woe, give them back blow for blow
Out and make way for the bold Fenian Men!

Side by side for the cause have our forefathers battled
Our hills never echo'd the tread of a slave
In many's a field where the leaden hail rattled
Through the red gap of glory they march'd to their grave

And those who inherit their name and their spirit
Will march 'neath the banners of Liberty then
All who love foreign law, native or Saxon
Must out and make way for the bold Fenian Men!

Bonfire On The Border, The

Brian O'Higgins
Twas on July the twenty-eighth
In the year of thirty-seven,
A fire was lit without a grate
And the flames leaped high to heaven.
Our King and Queen came sailing down
The Lough in the best of order
And we welcomed them to Belfast town
With a bonfire on the Border.

The Queen put a muffler round her neck
Assisted by her weemin,
The King walked up and down the deck
Surrounded by his G-men.
He asked "What is that glare I see?"
The reply was there in order:
"It´s Ireland united in loyalty
With a bonfire on the Border !"

Some say the spark was Ulster´s own
Some say it was extraneous,
A man in Down said it lit on its own
The combustion being spontaneous.
A lad who loves his King and Queen
And stands for Law and Order,
Says the flames were Orange, White and Green
In that bonfire on the Border.

They may prance and dance in Belfast Town,
They may croon ´Whereas´ in Dublin;
They may sever the Empire from the Crown,
But they might as well not be troublin´
Neither Lay Tribunal nor Legal Bench,
Nor turnkey, tout or warder,
Nor all the Boyne water can ever quench
That bonfire on the Border!

Here´s to the lads that played the game,
Here´s to the minds that planned it,
Here´s to the hands that lit the flame,
Here´s to the winds that fanned it:
May it blaze again from shore to shore
Consuming our land´s disorder:
May it leap and roar from shore to shore
Till it burns away the Border!

Boys of the Old Brigade, The

Traditional
Oh, father why are you so sad
On this bright Easter morn’
When Irish men are proud and glad
Of the land that they were born?
Oh, son, I see in mem’ries few
Of far off distant days
When being just a lad like you
I joined the IRA.

Where are the lads that stood with me
When history was made?
A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
The boys of the old brigade.

From hills and farms a call to arms
Was heard by one and all.
And from the glen came brave young men
To answer Ireland’s call.
‘T wasn’t long ago we faced a foe,
The old brigade and me,
And by my side they fought and died
That Ireland might be free.

Where are the lads that stood with me
When history was made?
A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
The boys of the old brigade.

And now, my boy, I’ve told you why
On Easter morn’ I sigh,
For I recall my comrades all
And dark old days gone by.
I think of men who fought in glen
With rifle and grenade.
May heaven keep the men who sleep
From the ranks of the old brigade.

Where are the lads that stood with me
When history was made?
A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
The boys of the old brigade.

Brennan on the Moor

Oh it’s of a brave young highwayman this story I will tell
His name was Willie Brennan and in Ireland he did dwell
It was on the Kilworth Mountain he commenced his wild career
And many a wealthy nobleman before him shook with fear

Chorus (after each verse)
And it’s Brennan on the moor, Brennan on the moor
Bold, brave undaunted was young Brennan on the moor

One day upon the highway as young Willie he went down
He met the mayor of Cashel a mile outside of town
The mayor he knew his features and he said, young man, said he
Your name is Willie Brennan, you must come along with me

Now Brennan's wife had gone to town provisions for to buy
And when she saw her Willie she commenced to weep and cry
Said, Hand to me that ten penny, as soon as Willie spoke
She handed him a blunderbuss from underneath her cloak

Key D (last line repeat)
Now with this loaded blunderbuss - the truth I will unfold –
He made the mayor to tremble and he robbed him of his gold
One hundred pounds was offered for his apprehension there
So he, with horse and saddle to the mountains did repair

And it’s Brennan on the moor, Brennan on the moor
Bold, brave undaunted was young Brennan on the moor

Now Brennan being an outlaw upon the mountains high
With cavalry and infantry to take him they did try
He laughed at them with scorn until at last 'twas said
By a false-hearted woman he was cruelly betrayed

Chorus x 2 (last line repeat)

Brian Bórú

Alan Stivell
(Gaeilge)
Maraíodh Brian Boru chun beatha na hÉireann
Síochain in gCuige Uladh agus i mBaile 'Cliath
Aontacht an teaghlaigh, aontacht na dtuath
Aontacht an domhain is na gCeilteach

(Brezhoneg)
Diouzh nerzh ar c'hadou da nerzh an ehan
Diouzh 'bed doueek bennozh ar c'haroud
(Gaeilge)
O neart an chatha go neart na síochana
On bhith dhiaga beannacht an ghrá

Duirt siad gurbh é seo sochraide ar muintire
Gur choir duine bheinn sollunta féin
Bíodh nach raibh brónach

(Brezhoneg)
Marv Brian Boru 'reiñ buhez 'n Iwerzhon
Dihan e Bro-Ulad ha ba kêr Dulenn
Unded an tiegezh, unded an dud-mañ
Unded ar Gelted hag an douar

(Gaeilge)
Maraíodh Brian Boru chun beatha na hÉireann
Síochain in gCuige Uladh agus i mBaile 'Cliath
Aontacht an teaghlaigh, aontacht na dtuath
Aontacht an domhain is na gCeilteach

(Brezhoneg)
Diouzh nerzh ar c'hadou da nerzh an ehan
Diouzh 'bed doueek bennozh ar c'haroud
(Gaeilge)
O neart an chatha go neart na síochana
On bhith dhiaga beannacht an ghrá

Tá muid 'nos na haimsire
Go h-airid an ghrían
Agus thogh muid áit bhóg cois ashann

Bring Them Home

Unknown
In the jail that held Mc Swiney
In the prison where he died
Lies two daughters of old Ireland
And they fill my heart with pride
For I know that England wishes
That we´d let them die alone
But the voice of dear old Ireland
Cries for us to bring them home

Hear it ring on the air
It´s the voice of my country so fair
Can´t you feel can´t you see
Irishmen will set them free

Twas the love of dear old Ireland
Brought them to a prison hell
But the ghosts of Pearse and Connolly
Filled their lonely prison cell
Clarke and Plunkett stand beside them
Mc Donagh Mc Dermott and Wolfe Tone
And all the voices of old Ireland
Cry for us to bring them home

So I pray you men of Ireland
Don´t betray our daughters true
Proudly stand beside our heroes
Lest they die for me and you
Though the tyrant would deny us
We can break their hearts of stone
And all of Ireland will be singing
When we bring our daughters home

Buachaill ón Éirne

Traditional
Buachaill ón Éirne mé 's bhréagfainn féin cailín deas óg
Ní iarrfainn bó spré léithe tá mé féin saibhir go leor
'S liom Corcaigh 'a mhéid é, dhá thaobh a' ghleanna 's Tír Eoghain
'S mura n-athraí mé béasaí 's mé n' t-oidhr' ar Chontae Mhaigh Eo

Rachaidh mé 'márach a dhéanamh leanna fán choill
Gan choite gan bád gan gráinnín brach' ar bith liom
Ach duilliúr na gcraobh mar éideadh leapa os mo chionn
'S óró sheacht mh'anam déag thú 's tú 'féachaint orm anall

Buachailleacht bó, mo leo, nár chleacht mise ariamh
Ach ag imirt 's ag 'ol 's le hógmhná deasa fá shliabh
Má chaill mé mo stór ní dóigh* gur chaill mé mo chiall
A's ní mó liom do phóg ná'n bhróg atá'r caitheamh le bliain

A chuisle 's a stór ná pós an seanduine liath
Ach pós a' fear óg, mo leo, mur' maire sé ach bliain
Nó beidh tú go fóill gan ó nó mac os do chionn
A shilfeadh a'n deor tráthnóna nó'r maidin go trom

I'm a boy from the Erne and I could charm a nice young girl
I would not ask for her wealth as I am rich enough myself
I own a good part of Cork, two side of the glen in Tir Eoghainn
And not to repeat myself I'm the heir of County Mayo

I will go tomorrow to make ale in the wood
Without a cot without a boat without a pinch of gruel with me
But leaves of the branches as bedclothes over my head
And think well done for you as you watch me from over there

A cowherd, my pet, I've never been accustomed to be
Instead of playing and drinking with the nice young women on the mountainside
If I lost my riches I probably didn't lose my senses
And your kiss is no more to me now than a shoe worn for a year

My darling and my love don't marry the grey old man
But marry a young man, my pet, if he only lives but a year
Or you will be without a descendant to succeed you
And you'd shed sorrowful tears from morning till night

Cad é sin do'n té sin

Traditional
Chuaigh mé chun aonaigh is dhíol mé mo bhó
Ar chúig phunta airgid is ar ghiní bhuí óir
Má ólaim an t-airgead is má bhronnaim an t-ór
Ó cad é sin do'n té sin nach mbaineann sin dó

Má théim 'na choille chraobhaigh cruinniú smeara nó cró
A bhaint úllaí de ghéaga nó a bhuachailleacht bó
Má shíním seal uaire faoi chrann a dhéanamh só
Ó cad é sin do'n té sin nach mbaineann sin dó

Má théimse chuig airnéal is rince is spórt
Chuig aonach is rásaí 's gach cruinniú den tsórt
Má chím daoine súgach is má bhím súgach leo
Ó cad é sin do'n té sin nach mbaineann sin dó

Deir daoine go bhfuil mé gan rath 's gan dóigh
Gan earra gan éadach gan bólacht ná stór
Má tá mise sásta mó chónaí i gcró
Ó cad é sin do'n té sin nach mbaineann sin dó

Chuaigh mé chun aonaigh is dhíol mé mo bhó
Ar chúig phunta airgid is ar ghiní bhuí óir
Má ólaim an t-airgead is má bhronnaim an t-ór
Ó cad é sin do'n té sin nach mbaineann sin dó

What's It To Anyone?

I went to the fair and I sold my cow
For five pounds of silver and a golden guinnea
If I drink the money and if I spend the gold
Oh what does it matter to those it doesn't concern

If I go to the thick woods to gather berries or nuts
Take apples from the branches or become a cowherd
If I stretch out under a tree for an hour to do it
Oh what does it matter to those it doesn't concern

If I go to night-visiting and dance and have fun
To a fair and races and everything like that
If I see tipsy people and if I'm tipsy with them
Oh what does it matter to those it doesn't concern

People say that I'm good for nothing and a wastrel
Without goods without clothes without kith or kine
If I'm happy with living in a shack
Oh what does it matter to those it doesn't concern

I went to the fair and I sold my cow
For five pounds of silver and a golden guinnea
If I drink the money and if I spend the gold
Oh what does it matter to those it doesn't concern

Caislean Óir

Clannad
Thart orainn
Reált geal san oíche
Tá'n fharraige chiúin
Agus suaimhneas sa ghaoth
An fharraige chiúin
Ina codladh sa ghaoth

Thíos sa ghleann an ghleann an cheo
Riocht na gréine i gCaisleán Óir
Tá'n fharraige chiúin agus suaimhneas sa ghaoth
An fharraige chiúin ina codladh sa ghaoth

Driocht a mheall na daoine roinn
Soilse geala i gCaisleán Óir
Tá'n fharraige chiúin agus suaimhneas sa ghaoth
An fharraige chiúin ina codladh sa ghaoth

Casadh Cam na Feadarnaí
Pádraigin Ní Uallachain, Traditional
Casadh Cam na Feadarnaí

Ag Casadh Cam na Feadarnaí
Ar a dhul isteach sa tsléibh dhuit
Ar thaobh do láimhe deise dhuit
Tá toigh na Caillí Riabhaí.

Curfá:
With a ma ring a doo a day
With a ma ring a doo a daddio.

Bhí Bunnaidh Chinn is Bannaidh Chinn
Is Neidí beag a’ tsléibh’ ann
‘Sé Velvet bocht a d’ársódh duit
Cá mbíonn an Chailleach Riabhach.

Curfá

Oíche roimh mhí Shamhna
A’ tarraingt mhóin a’ Tiarna
Bhí Neansaí Gabha ’s na gasúir
Ag creach na Caillí Riabhaí.
Curfá

Dá bhfeicfeá Mícheál Ó Báinichinn
’S é ag imeacht lena chliabhán
A’ cruinniú ábhar tine
Lena ‘dandy-cap’ a ghrianadh.

Curfá

-oOo-

The Double Bend At Feadarnach

At the double bend at Feadarnach
As you go into the mountain
On your right hand side
Is the house of the Brindled Hag.

Refrain:
With a ma ring a doo a day
With a ma ring a doo a daddio.

Bunnaidh Chinn and Bannaidh Chinn were there
And little Ned from the mountain
It’s poor Velvet who would relate to you
Where the Brindled Hag is.

The night before November
Drawing the landlord’s turf
The Blacksmith’s Nancy and the lads
Were at the plundering of the Brindled Hag.

If you saw Mícheál Ó Báinichinn
Going off with his creel
Gathering fuel for the fire
To sun his dandy cap.

Changing your Demeanor

Her we are we come to call the pipes the flutes
The fiddle sand all.
In case of death we’ve even brought
A keener So if your glum and feeling down just be like
Us and act the clown and soon there’ll be a change in
Your demeanor

Chorus:
Rum tum deedoodle doe hubba dee die dee doodle doe
Rum tum dee doodle doe doe doo dum
Rum tum dee doodle doe hubba dee diddle dee doodle doe
Rum tum dee doodle doe dee doo dum

I put my money on a horse today for with the race
He’d run away or so a friend who’s in the ank
Knows he told me
Twenty lengths ahead and most he proudly cantered
Past the post but woe in me he lost the blooming jockey

Now all the places I’ve seen
From China to Carribean
Are all across the goal compared to Ireland
From Bally Castle to Traline
The Corrib to the liffy
There’s nowhere else on earth quite like
This Island

In Hollywood I long to be
Not on that place across the sea
But in county wicklow Irelands lovely garden
Where no pretenders will you find
But decent people roamin’
And the fox and friendly sheep into the bargain

For your ills don’t take a pill
But take a tender o’er the hills
And listen to the larks lovely warning
In the evening in the company
With music in the key of D (or whatever)
You’ll be dancing Kerry sets until the morning

Clancy Lowered the Boom

Now Clancy was a peaceful man, if you know what I mean
The cops picked up the pieces, after Clancy left the scene
He never looked for trouble, that’s a fact you can assume
But nevertheless, when trouble would pass
Clancy lowered the boom

Chorus:
Oh that Clancy! Oh that Clancy! Whenever they
Got his Irish up, Clancy lowered the boom (repeat)

O’Leary was a fighting man, they all knew he was tough
He strutted ‘round the neighborhood, a shootin’ off his guff
He picked a fight with Clancy, then and there sealed his doom
Before he could shout “O’Leary Lookout”
Clancy lowered the boom

The neighbors all turned out for Kate O’Grady’s wedding night
McDugal said, “Let’s have some fun, I think I’ll start a fight!”
He wrecked the hall, kissed the bride, and pulverized the groom,
Then quick as a wink, before you could think
Clancy lowered the boom

Cockles and Mussels

In Dublin’s fair city where the girls are so pretty
Twas there that I first Met
Sweet Molly Malone
She drove a wheel barrow thro streets broad and
Narrow, crying cockles and mussels alive alive oh!

Chorus:
Alive alive oh! Alive Alive oh!
Crying Cockles and mussels alive alive oh!

She was a fishmonger and that was no wonder
Her father and mother were fish Mongers too
They drove wheelbarrows thro streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels alive alive oh!

She died of the fever and nothing could save her
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
But her ghost drives and barrow thro streets
Broad and narrow, crying cockles and mussels
Alive alive oh!

Colcannon

(The Skillet Pot)
Did you ever eat Colcannon, made from lovely pickled cream
With greens and scallions mingled like a picture in a dream
Did you ever make a hole on top to hold the melting flake
Of the creamy, flavored butter that your mother used to make

Chorus:
Oh, you did, so you did, so did he and so did I
And the more I think about it sure the nearer I am to cry
Oh, weren’t they the happy days when troubles we knew not
And our mothers made colcannon in a little skillet pot

Did you ever take potato cake in a basket to the school
Tucked underneath your arm with your book, your slate and rule
And when teacher wasn’t looking sure a great big bite you’d take
Of the creamy flavored buttered soft and sweet potato cake

Did you ever go a-courting as the evening sun went down
And the moon began a-peeping from behind the hill o’ down
As you wandered down the boreen where the leprechaun was seen
And you whispered loving phrases to your little fair colleen

Colleen Malone

It’s been ten years and three since
I first went to sea since I sailed
From old Ireland and home
But those hills lush and green
Were a part of my dreams when
I dreamed of my Colleen Malone

On the day I return to my
Sorrow I learned that the
Angels had called her away
To a grave on a hill overlooking
The mill that’s place where
She’s sleeping today

Chorus:
As the soft breezes blow through
The meadow I go past the mill
With the moss covered stone
Up the pathway I climb through
The woods and the vines to be
With my Colleen Malone

She was faithful each day as
I sailed far away there was no one
But me that she loved and I
Remember those eyes soft and blue
As the skies in her heart
Was as pure as a dove’s

All the years of my life I will
Not take a wife I will live in
This valley alone plantin’
Flowers around in this soft
Gentle ground that is
Holding my Colleen Malone

Come By the Hills

Come by the hills, to a land where fancy is free
And stand where the hill meet the sky and the lochs greet the sea
Where the heather is fair, and the bracken is gold in the sun
And the cares of tomorrow must wait till this day is done

Come by the hills, to a land where life is a song
And sing, while the birds fill the air with their joy all day long
Where the trees sway in time, and even the wind sings in tune
And the cares of tomorrow must wait till this day is done

Come by the hills, to a land where legends remain
Where stories of old fill the heart, and may yet come again
Where the past has been lost, but the future is still to be won
And the cares of tomorrow must wait till this day is done

Come by the hills, to a land where legends remain
Where the glories of old fill our hearts, and may yet live again
Where the past has been lost, but the future is ours to be won
And the cares of tomorrow must wait till this day is done

So, come by the hills, to a land where fancy is free
And stand where the hill meet the sky and the lochs greet the sea
Where the heather is fair and the bracken is gold in the sun
And the cares of tomorrow must wait till this day is done
Yes, the cares of tomorrow must wait till this day is done

Comin’ Through the Rye

Gin a body meet a body
Comin’ thru the rye
Gin a body kiss a body need a body cry
Ilka Lassie has her laddie
Nane sae they hae I
Yet a the lads they smile on me
When comin’ thru the rye

Gin a body meet a body, comin’ frae the well
Gin a body kiss a body, need a body tell
Ilka lassie has her laddie ne’er a ane hae I
But a the lads they smile at me
When comin’ through the rye

Gina body, meet a body comin’ frae the toon
Gin a body greet a body need a body frown
Ilka lassie has her lassie
Nane sae they hae I
But a the lads they lo’e me well
And what the waur am I

Amang the train there is a swain
I dearly lo’e myself
But waur his home or what his name
I dinna care to tell
Ilka lassie has her laddie nane they say hae I
But a the lads they lo’e me well
And what waur am I.

Crossmaglen

Éire Óg
Oh I'll sing a song,
Of the bravest men!
That famous fighting unit from Armagh (TIOCFAIDH AR LA)
They are the men,
From Crossmaglen,
Amongst the bravest Irelands ever saw

Chorus
In Crossmaglen,
The fire burns true.
The patriotic flame will never die.
And when you hear the battle cry
It will be the fighting men from Crossmaglen

At night you hear,
Bazookas roar,
Armalites are heard across the land.
The IRA,
Their spirits soar
They know the reckonin has come to hand

Chorus

The British scum,
They do fear,
Never again they'll see their cursed shore.
Because they know
They'll pay dear,
And the RA will even Irelands bloody score.

Chorus

We'll not give up!
Oh Will we fuck!
Until we're free!
Until Irelands out of British hands.
We'll never rest,
Until we see,
The tyrants rule driven from our land (TIOCFAIDH AR LA!)

Cúnla (Irish Gaelic version)

Traditional
Cé hé siúd thíos atá ag leagadh na gclathacha? (3x)
"Mise mé féin," a deir Cúnla.

(curfá)
Chúnla chaoin ná tara níos giorra dhom (3x)
"Maise mur' dtaga," a deir Cúnla.

Cé hé siúd thíos atá ag bualadh na bhfuinneoga? (3x)
"Mise mé féin," a deir Cúnla.

Chúnla chaoin…
Cé hé siúd thíos atá ag tochas mo bhonnacha? (3x)
"Mise mé féin," a deir Cúnla.
Chúnla chaoin…

Cé hé siúd thíos ag tarraingt na pluide dhíom? (3x)
"Mise mé féin," a deir Cúnla.
Chúnla chaoin…

—0—

Who is that there that's rapping the door to me?
Who is that there that's rapping the door to me?
Who is that there that's rapping the door to me?
Only meself, says Cúnla