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Four Leaf Clover

   I'm Looking Over A Four Leaf Clover 
   I'm looking over a four leaf clover
   That I over-looked before.
   One leaf is sunshine, the second is rain,
   Third is the roses that grows in the lane.
   No need explaining the one remaining
   Is somebody I adore.
   I'm looking over a four leaf clover
   That I over-looked before!

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 Fields of Athenry
Brendan Mc Ewen
midi midi midi

   By the lonely prison wall.
   I heard a young girl calling.
   Michael, they are taking you away, for you
   stole Trevelyn's corn
   So the young might see the morn. 
   Now a prisonship lies waiting in the bay.

   Low lie, the Fields of Athenry, where
   once we watched the small free birds fly.
   Our love was on the wing, we had dreams and songs to sing.
   It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry.

   By a lonely prison wall
   I heard a young man calling.
   Nothing matters Mary when you're free,
   Against the Famine and the Crown
   I rebelled, they ran me down.
   Now you must raise our child with dignity.

   (Chorus repeat)

   By a lonely harbour wall
   She watched the last star falling.
   And that prison ship sailed out against the sky.
   Sure she'll wait and hope and pray,
   for her love in Botany Bay.
   It's so lonely round the fields of Athenry
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   Four green fields 

   "What did I have?" said the fine old woman.
   "Whad did I have?" this proud old woman did say
   "I had four green fields, each one was a jewel,
   But strangers came and tried to take them from me
   I had fine strong sons, they fought to save my jewels;
   They fought and died, and that was my grief" said she.

   "Long time ago" said the fine old woman
   "Long time ago" this proud old woman did say
   "There was war and death, plundering and pillage
   My children starved, by mountain, valley and sea
   And their wailing cries, they shook the very heavens;
   My four green fields ran red with their blood" said she.

   "What have I now?" said the proud old woman
   "What have I now?" this proud old woman did say
   "I have four green fields, one of them`s in bondage
   In stranger`s hands that tried to take it from me
   But my sons have sons as brave as were their fathers;
   My fourth green field shall bloom once again" said she.

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Four Country Roads

Four country roads, winding to a town in County Galway
Four country roads, leading to the friends I left behind
Four dusty roads, winding to the town of Glenamaddy
Four dusty roads, forever in the caverns of my mind

Once in a while
I hear the sound of music in the winter night
I see now and then
The trees where we sheltered from the rain
And once in a while
I see us walking home in the morning light
And oft are the times
I long to see my home town once again

Four roads to Glenamaddy
Four roads that drift apart
Four roads to Glenamaddy
Are the four dusty byways to my heart

One country road
Led me to the schoolhouse by the meadow
And one country road
To the churchyard where my Mum and Daddy lie
One dusty road
Where I strolled with a loved one in the shadows
And one dusty road
That led me on my journey far away

Chorus - 2nd verse - Chorus X 2 & ends
The four country highways to my heart.

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Forty Shades Of Blue
Larry Kirwan

Oh it's midnight on the Bowery and your feet are soakin' wet 
And you've drank your last brass farthin' 
You'd sell your soul for a cigarette 
And the sounds from CBGBs are comfortin' to you 
Then you think of the green fields of Ireland 
And you feel 40 shades of blue 

Ah you're back on the drink since September 
And your head feels like a sieve 
And you know that you're goin' from bad to worse 
But you just don't give a shit 
And the hymns from the Sally Army sound heavenly and true 
Then you think of your friends and your family 
And you feel 40 shades of blue 

Ah you've got a great future behind you 
But you're goin' nowhere fast 
Just up and down the Bowery from Canal Street to old St. Marks 
And you wonder what she's up to now 
Did she really find somebody new 
Ah how the hell could she just walk out like that 
On your 40 shades of blue 

And you wonder how it came to this 
Was it always in the cards 
'Cause workin' is for idiots 
And you loved the smell of bars 
And the letters that you sent back home 
Were full of all the things you'd done 
But they don't say you're down there on Bleecker Street 
With your hand out on the bum 

Now the dawn's comin' up on the Bowery 
And you're heartsick and soakin' wet 
With your tongue hangin' out for some Irish Rose 
You'd sell your soul for a cigarette 
"And someday I'm gonna give up this drinkin' 
But then maybe someday I'll win the lottery too 
Then I'll go back home to old Wexford Town 
And paint her 40 shades off blue"

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Forty Shades Of Green

I close my eyes and picture the emerald of the sea
From the fishing boats at Dingle 
To the shores of Dona'dee
I miss the River Shannon and folks at Skibereen
The Moorlands and the Meadows 
And their forty shades of green

But most of all I miss a girl in Tipperary town
And most of all I miss her lips 
As soft as eiderdown
Again I want to see and do 
The things I've done and seen
Where the breeze is sweet as shalimar
And there's forty shades of green


I wish that I could spend an hour 
At Dublin's churning surf
I'd love to watch the farmers 
Drain the bog and spade the turf
To see again the thatching 
Of the straw the women glean
I'd walk from Cork to Larne to see 
The forty shades of green

Chorus & ends
Where the breeze is sweet as shalimar
And there's forty shades of green

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Forever on my Mind

O'Hara, Hughes, McCreesh and Sands, 
Doherty and Lynch 
McDonnell, Hurson, McIlwee, Devine 

Darkened years of winter have passed 
Summer waits for spring before it lives 
Blanket clad and wasted the winter has been long 
No gleam of hope a thoughtless nation gives 
In silence we walked through the streets 
As one by one our hungerstrikers died. 

O'Hara, Hughes, McCreesh and Sands, 
Doherty and Lynch 
McDonnell, Hurson, McIlwee, Devine 

Their memory is forever in my mind 
Pictures of their faces in my eyes 
My sorrow and grief will not subside 
And my love for them I will not diguise 
In silence we walked through the streets 
As one by one our hungerstrikers died. 

O'Hara, Hughes, McCreesh and Sands, 
Doherty and Lynch 
McDonnell, Hurson, McIlwee, Devine 

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Lift MacCahir Og your face brooding o'er the old disgrace 
That black FitzWilliam stormed your place, drove you to the Fern 
Grey said victory was sure soon the firebrand he'd secure; 
Until he met at Glenmalure with Feach MacHugh O'Byrne. 

Ch.: Curse and swear Lord Kildare 
Feagh will do what Feach will dare 
Now FitzWilliam, have a care 
Fallen is your star, low 
Up with halbert out with sword 
On we'll go for by the lord 
Feach MacHugh has given the word, 
Follow me up to Carlow. 

See the swords of Glen Imayle, flashing o'er the English Pale 
See all the children of the Gael, beneath O'Byrne's banners 
Rooster of the fighting stock, would you let a Saxon cock 
Crow out upon an Irish rock, fly up and teach him manners. 

From Tassagart to Clonmore, there flows a stream of Saxon gore 
Och, great is Rory Oge O'More, sending the loons to Hades. 
White is sick and Lane is fled, now for black FitzWilliam's head 
We'll send it over, dripping red, to Queen Liza and the ladies. 


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Foggy Dew, The
midi midi midi midi

'Twas down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I.
When Ireland's line of marching men
In squadrons passed me by.
No pipe did hum, no battle drum
Did sound its dread tattoo
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey's swell
Rang out in the foggy dew.

Right proudly high over Dublin town
They hung out a flag of war.
'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky
Than at Suvla or Sud el Bar.
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through;
While Brittania's sons with their long-range guns
Sailed in from the foggy dew.

'Twas England bade our wild geese go
That small nations might be free.
Their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves
On the fringe of the grey North Sea.
But had they died by Pearse's side
Or fought with Cathl Brugha*,
Their graves we'd keep where the Fenians sleep
'Neath the hills of the foggy dew.

The bravest fell, and the solemn bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide
In the springing of the year.
And the world did gaze in deep amaze
At those fearless men and true
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew.

*Some versions use: "Valera true"

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My name is Arthur Hollandin, as you may understand 
I was born ten miles from Dublin Town, down on the salt-sea strand, 
When I was young and' comely, sure, good fortune on me shone, 
My parents loved me tenderly for I was their only son. 

My father he rose up one day and with him I did go, 
He bound me as a butcher's boy to Pearson of Wicklow, 
1 wore the bloody apron there for three long years and more, 
Till I shipped on board of The Ocean Queen belonging to Tramore. 

It was on Bermuda's island that I met with Captain Moore, 
The Captain of The Flying Cloud, the pride of Baltimore, 
I undertook to ship with him on a slaving voyage to go, 
To the burning shores of Africa, where the sugar cane does grow. 

It all went well until the day we reached old Africa's shore, 
And five hundred of them poor slaves, me boys, from their native land we bore, 
Each man was loaded down with chains as we made them walk below, 
Just eighteen inches of space was all that each man had to show. 

The plague it came and fever too and killed them off like flies, 
We dumped their bodies on the deck and hove them overside, 
For sure, the dead were the lucky ones for they'd have to weep no more, 
Nor drag the chain and feel the lash in slavery for evermore. 

But now our money it is all spent, we must go to sea once more, 
And all but five remained to listen to the words of Captain Moore, 
'There's gold and silver to be had if with me you'll remain, 
Let's hoist the pirate flag aloft and sweep the Spanish Main.' 

The Flying Cloud was a Yankee ship, five hundred tons or more, 
She could outsail any clipper ship hailing out of Baltimore, 
With her canvas white as the driven snow and on it there's no specks, 
And forty men and fourteen guns she carried below her decks. 

We plundered many a gallant ship down on the Spanish Main, 
Killed many a man and left his wife and children to remain, 
To none we showed no kindness but gave them watery graves , 
For the saying of our captain was: "Dead men tell no tales. " 

We ran and fought with many a ship, both frigates and liners too, 
Till, at last, a British Man-O-War, The Dunmow, hove in view, 
She fired a shot across our bows as we ran before the wind, 
And a chainshot cut our mainmast down and we fell far behind. 

They beat our crew to quarters as they drew up alongside, 
And soon across our quarter-deck there ran a crimson tide, 
We fought until they killed our captain and twenty of our men, 
Then a bombshell set our ship on fire, we had to surrender then. 

It's now to Newgate we have come, bound down with iron chains , 
For the sinking and the plundering of ships on the Spanish Main, 
The judge he has condemned us and we are condemned to die. 
Young men a warning by me take and shun all piracy. 

Farewell to Dublin City. and the girl that I adore, 
I'll never kiss your cheek again nor hold your hand no more, 
Whiskey and bad company have made a wretch of me, 
Young men, a warning by me take and shun all piracy. 

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Flight of the Earls

I can hear the bells of Dublin in this lonely waiting room
And the Paper-boys are singing in the rain
Not be long before they take us to the Airport and the noise
To get onboard a Trans-Atlantic plane

We've got nothing left to stay for,we have no more left to say
And there isn't any work for us to do
So farewell you boys and girls another bloody flight of Earls
Our best asset is our best export too

It's not murder,fear or famine that makes us leave this time
We're not going to join McAlpines fusiliers
We've got brains and we've got vision,we've got education too
But we just can't throw away these precious years

So we walk the streets of London and the streets of Baltimore
And we meet at night in several Boston bars
We're the leaders of the future but we're far away from home
And we dream of you beneath the Irish stars

As we look on Ellis Island and the lady in the bay
And Manhattan turns to face another Sunday
We just wonder what you're doing to bring us all back home
As we look forward to another Monday

Because it's not the work that scares us,we don't mind an honest job
And we know things will get better once again
So a thousand times adieu,we've got Bono and U2
All we're missing is the Guiness and the rain

So switch off your new Computers cos the writing's on the wall
We're leaving as our fathers did before
Take a look at Dublin Airport or the boat that leaves North Wall
There'll be no Youth unemployment anymore

Because we're over here in Queensland and in parts of New South Wales
We're on the seas and airways and the trains
But if  we see better days those big airplanes go both ways
And we'll all be coming back to you again

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Ah Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street, 
A gentleman Irish mighty odd
Well he had a tongue both rich and sweet, 
An' to rise in the world he carried a hod
Ah but Tim had a sort of tipplin way 
With the love of the liquor he was born
And to send him on his way each day, 
He'd a drop of the craythur ev'ry morn

Whack fol the dah will ya dance to yer parner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn'-n't it the truth I told you? Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

One morning Tim was rather full
His head felt heavy which made him shake
He fell off the ladder and he broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake
Well they rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And they laid him out upon the bed
With a bottle of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head

Well his friends assembled at the wake
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch
Well first they brought in tay and cake
The pipes, tobacco and brandy punch
Then Widow Malone began to cry
'Such a lovely corpse, did you ever see
Arrah, Tim avourneen, why did you die?'
'Will ye hould your gob?' said Molly McGee

Well Mary O'Connor took up the job
'Biddy' says she 'you're wrong, I'm sure'
Well Biddy gave her a belt in the gob
And left her sprawling on the floor
Well civil war did then engage
Woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
And a row and a runction soon began

Well Tim Maloney raised his head
When a bottle of whiskey flew at him
He ducked and, landing on the bed
The whiskey scattered over Tim
Bedad he revives, see how he rises
Tim Finnegan rising in the bed
Saying 'Whittle your whiskey around like blazes
T'underin' Jaysus, do ye think I'm dead?' 

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There's many a date in history of which the poet sings, 
Of battles won and battles lost, of emperors and kings. 
But the fifth day of October stays in my mem'ry yet. 
For the things I saw in Derry town I never will forget. 

Now poverty and hardship have long been Ireland's lot, 
And some would say that Paddy's land is a place that's best forgot, 
But I'm a true-born Derry man and never run away, 
So with the few I joined the queue in the march that fateful day. 

The Police came on like bully boys and told us we must cease, 
For Derry town was not our own for marching where we please, 
And wiser men and better had given this advice, 
And if we dared to disagree we would pay an awful price. 

And then the gang advanced on us, the tyrants' hireling crew, 
And smiling in their viciousness their sticks and batons drew, 
On the fifth day of October I saw sights that warmed my brain, 
The screams and shouts or injured men, and the awful cries of pain. 

Oh! Fools have ruled o'er men before, but always comes a time 
Though beaten low by savage foe from off their knees they climb, 
And woe be to the tyrants when the people's wrath is shown, 
When corruption's laws and despot's cause are forever overthrown. 

Come all you true-born working men and list awhile to me, 
The fifth day of October will always precious be; 
And freedom's torch that Derry lit will kindle far and wide 
When the struggle's done and we've overcome, we can hold our head with pride. 

from: J. McDonnell (Ed.) Songs of struggle and protest, 1979. 
The notes to this song from the above mentioned book: "...The first 
Civil Rights march was held successfully in Dungannon in August 
1968. The events set out in the ballad The Fifth Day of October 
occured when a Civil Rights march in Derry on October fifth, 1968, 
was attacked by the police, using batons, water cannon, and the 
dreaded CS gas.." 

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As I walked by the dockside one evening so fair
To view the salt water and take the sea air
I heard an old fisherman singing a song
Won't you take ma away boys me time is not long

Wrap me up in me oil-skin and jumper
No more on the docks I'll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I'm taking a trip mates
And I'll see you some day in Fiddler's Green

Now Fiddler's Green is a place I heard tell
Where the fishermen go if they don't go to hell
Where skies are all clear and the dolphins do play
And the cold coast of Greenland is far, far away

When you get on the docks and the long trip is through
Ther's pubs and ther's clubs and ther's lassies there too
When the girls are all pretty and the beer it is free
And ther's bottles of rum growing from every tree

Now, I don't want a harp nor a halo, not me
Just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea
I'll play me old squeeze-box as we sail along
With the wind in the rigging to sing me a song

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Ferryman, The

The little boat had gone from the breast of An Liffey
And the Ferrymen were stranded on the Quay
Ah the Dublin docks are dying and a way of life is gone
And sure Molly it was part of you and me

Where the strawberry beds sweep down to the liffey
We'll kiss away the worries from my brow
I loved you well today and I'll love you more tomorrow
If you ever loved me Molly love me now

It was the only job I knew,it was hard but never lonely
The Liffey ferry made a man of me
Now it's gone without a whisper and forgotten even now
Sure it's over,Molly over can't you see


And now I'll tell me yarn and I'll spend me days a-talkin'
And I'll hear the whisper,"Charlie's on the Dole"
But Molly we're still livin' and darlin' we're still young
And the Liffey never owned my heart and soul


repeat chorus & last line...

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Now boys, if you will listen, a story I'll relate 
I'll tell you of the noble men who from their foe escaped. 
Though bound with Saxon fetters in the dark Australian jail, 
They struck a blow for freedom and for Yankeeland set sail. 

On the seventeenth of April last the Stars and Stripes did fly 
On board the bark Catalpa, waving proudly to the sky; 
She showed the green above the red as she did calmly lay 
Prepared to take the Fenian boys in safety o'er the sea. 

When Breslin and brave Desmond brought the prisoners to the shore, 
They gave one shout for freedom; soon to bless them evermore. 
And manned by gallant Irish hearts, pulled towards the Yankee shore, 
For well they knew, from its proud folds, no tyrant could them drag. 

They had nearly reached in safety the Catalpa taut and trim, 
When fast approaching them they saw a vision dark and dim. 
It was the gunboat Georgette, and on her deck there stood, 
One hundred hired assassins, to shed each patriot's blood. 

The gunboat reached the bounding bark and fired across her bow, 
Then in loud voice commanded that the vessel should heave to. 
But noble Captain Anthony in thunder tones did cry, 
"You dare not fire a shot at that bright flag that floats on high." 

"My ship is sailing peacefully beneath that flag of stars, 
It's manned by Irish hearts of oak and manly Yankee tars; 
And that dear emblem near the fore, so plain to be seen, 
Is is the banner I'll protect, old Ireland's flag of green." 

The Britisher he sailed away, from the Stars and Stripes he ran, 
He knew his chance was slim to fight the boys of Uncle Sam; 
So Hogan, Wilson, Harrington, with Darragh off did go; 
With Hassett and bold Cranston, soon to whip the Saxon foe. 

Here's luck to Captain Anthony who well these men did free, 
He dared the English man-o'-war to fight him on the sea; 
And here's to that dear emblem which in triumph shall be seen 
The flag for which our heroes fought, old Ireland's flag of green. 

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Fenian Record Player, The

Wee Willie John McFadden was a loyal Ulster Prod
Who thought that Ian Paisley was one step down from God
He scorned the little children, in the backstreets of Ardoyne
And he thought that history started with the Battle of the Boyne (repeat)

One day he took the brick in his hands and dandered up the Falls
He was singing ‘Up the Rangers’ and hummin’ Derry’s Walls
He broke the big shop window to annoy the Pope of Rome
He took the record player and then he started home (repeat)

Next night they had a hooley at the local Orange Hall
Wee Willie took his player to make music for the boys
He chose a stack of records of a very loyal kind
But when the music started he nearly lost his mind (repeat)

This Fenian record player was a rebel to the core
It played out songs the Orange Hall had never heard before
For Golly’s (?) Brae and Derry’s Walls it didn’t give a fig
It speeded up God Save the Queen till it sounded like a jig (repeat)

Well the boys were plain demented, to the ground Wee Will was thrown
They kicked his ribs in one by one to the tune of Garryowen
They threw him out the window to the song of Old Sinn Fein
They kicked him all down Sandy Row to a Nation Once Again (repeat)

There’s a moral to this story, what it is I cannot say
Oh maybe its the ancient curse, crime it will not pay
If you ask Wee Willie McFadden, he’ll say “you’re kind, you know” (?)
If you want to pinch a record player, do it up the Shankill Road (repeat)

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Come all you warriors and renowned nobles 
Give ear unto my warlike theme 
While I relate how brave Father Murphy 
He lately roused from his sleepy dream 
Sure Julius Caesar nor Alexander 
Nor brave King Arthur ever equalled him 
For armies formidable he did conquer 
Though with two pikemen he did begin 

Camolin cavalry he did unhorse them 
Their first lieutenant he cut him down 
With shattered ranks and with broken columns 
They soon returned to Camolin town 
At the hill of Oulart he displayed his valour 
Where a hundred Corkmen lay on the plain 
At Enniscorthy his sword he wielded 
And I hope to see him once more again 

When Enniscorthy became subject unto him 
Twas then to Wexford we marched our men 
And on the Three Rock took up our quarters 
Waiting for daylight the town to win 
The loyal townsmen gave their assistance 
We will die or conquer they all did say 
The yeomen cavalry made no resistance, 
For on the pavement their corpses lay 

With drums a-beating the town did echo 
And acclamations came from door to door 
On the Windmill Hill we pitched our tents then 
We drank like heroes but paid no score 
On Carraig Rua for some time we waited 
And next to Gorey we did repair 
At Tubberneering we thought no harm 
The bloody army was waiting there 

The issue of it was a close engagement 
While on the soldiers we played warlike pranks 
Through the sheepwalks, hedgerows and shady thickets 
There were mangled bodies and broken ranks 
The shuddering cavalry, I can't forget them 
We raised the brushes on their helmets straight 
They turned about and made straight for Dublin 
As though they ran for a ten pound plate 

Now, some crossed Donnybrook and more through Blackrock 
And some up Shankhill without wound or flaw 
And if Barry Lawless be not a liar 
There was more went groaning up Luggela 
To the Windmill Hill of Enniscorthy, 
The British Fencibles they fled like deers 
But our ranks were tattered and sorely scattered 
By the loss o Kyan and his Shelamaliers 

The streets of England were left quite naked 
Of all their army both foot and horse 
The Highlands Scotland were left unguarded 
Likewise the Hessians the seas did cross 
But if the Frenchmen had reinforced us 
And landed transports at Baginbun 
Father John Murphy, he would be their seconder 
And sixteen thousand with him would come 

Success attend you sweet County Wexford 
Threw off the yoke and to battle run 
Let them not think we gave up our arms 
For every man still has a pike and gun 

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FAIRY HILLS (To the tune of "Si Bheag Si Mhor")

Long long ago in this ancient land
A battle took place where two hills now stand
And on the plain there lay the slain
For neither the battle was won

So the bard did sing of these fairy hills
Where bloom the white flowers and daffodils
One big one small Si Bheag Si Mhor
And never the battle is won

Beneath these hills great heroes lie
Of the Red Branch Knights and their ancient foe
In still of night the immortals fight
But never the battle is won

And so the harper was told these fairy tales
Of these fairy hills of the ancient Gaels
One big one small Si Bheag Si Mhor
And never the battle is won

Twas after the battle the prophet foretold
No rest would be found for these warriors bold
Till they unite and fight one common foe
And then would the battle be won.

So then the harper wrote of these fairy hills
Where bloom the white flowers and daffodils
One big one small Si Bheag Si Mhor
And never the battle is won

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[from Irish Songs of Resistance]

Come tell me, dearest mother, what makes my father stay
Or what can be the reason that he's been so long away?
Oh hold your tongue, my darling son, your tears do grieve me sore
I fear he has been murdered at the fair of Turloughmore

Come all you tender Christians I hope you will draw near
It's of this dreadful murder I mean to let you hear
Concerning those poor people whose loss we do deplore
The Lord have mercy on their souls, they died at Turloughmore

'Twas on the first of August the truth I will declare
Those people they assembled that day all at the fair
But little was their notion what evil was in store
All by the bloody Peelers at the fair of Turloughmore

Were you to see that dreadful sight 'twould grieve your heart I know
To see those lovely women and the men all lying low
God help their tender parents, they will never see them more
For cruel was their murder at the fair of Turloughmore

It's for that base bloodthirsty crew remark the word I say
The Lord he will reward them against the Judgement Day
The blood they've taken innocent for it they'll suffer sore
And the treatment that they gave to us that day at Turloughmore

The morning of their trial as they stood in the dock
The words they spoke were feeling, the people round them flock
"I tell you judge and jury, the truth I will declare
It was Brew that ordered us to fire, that evening at the fair"

Now to conclude and finish this sad and doleful lay
I hope their souls are happy against the Judgement Day
It was little time they got, we know, when they fell like new-mown hay
May the Lord have mercy on their souls against the Judgment Day

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(Written by Shane McGowan & Jem Finer
 Sang by Shane McGowan &By Kirsty McColl)

It was Christmas Eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me, won't see another one
And then he sang a song
The Rare Old Mountain Dew
And I turned my face away
And dreamed about you

Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I've got a feeling
This year's for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true

They've got cars
Big as bars
They've got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It's no place for the old
When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me
Broadway was waiting for me

You were handsome
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on the corner
Then danced through the night

The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing 'Galway Bay'
And the bells were ringing
Out for Christmas day

You're a bum
You're a punk
You're an old slut on junk
Living there almost dead on a drip
In that bed

You scum bag
You maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God
It's our last

I could have been someone
So could anyone
You took my dreams
From me when I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you

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Our troop was made ready at the dawn of the day
From lovely Enniskillen they were marching us away
They put us then on board a ship to cross the raging main
To fight in bloody battle in the sunny land of Spain

Fare thee well Enniskillen, fare thee well for a while
And all around the borders of Erin's green isle
And when the war is over we'll return in full bloom
And you'll all welcome home the Enniskillen Dragoons

Oh Spain it is a gallant land where wine and ale flow free
There's lots of lovely women there to dandle on your knee
And often in a tavern there we'd make the rafters ring
When every soldier in the house would raise his glass and sing


Well we fought for Ireland's glory there and many a man did fall
From musket and from bayonet and from thundering cannon ball
And many a foeman we laid low, amid the battle throng
And as we prepared for action you would often hear this song


Well now the fighting's over and for home we have set sail
Our flag above this lofty ship is fluttering in the gale
They've given us a pension boys of fourpence each a day
And when we reach Enniskillen never more we'll have to say

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Fare thee well Enniskillen, fare thee well for a while
To all your fair waters and every green isle
Oh your green isle will flourish your fair waters flow
While I from old Ireland an exile must go

Her hair is as brown as the young raven's wing
Her eyes are as clear as the blue-bell of spring Father Once Said To Me

In 1916, in the year of our Lord
fighting came to Ireland, like it never had before
For freedom comes to those who fight for its day
so I picked up my rifle and joined the IRA

My great grandfather once said to his son:
the brits will leave before this year is done
This war will soon be in the past and Ireland
will be free at last Cause it won't be long until we've won
that`s what my great grandfather said to his son

A free and united Ireland was our only desire
And the best of the British Army couldn't put out that fire
But a deal with the devil was soon put forth
Freedom for the South and nothing for the North

Well, this didn't seem really right with me
For Ireland is one from sea to sea
And the IRA said our job's not done
So off to the North I went with my gun

We fought in the fields, we fought in the streets
And the English knew we couldn't be beat
We fought with rifles, we fought with rocks
And sent many a soldier home in a box

The fight has been long and many have fell
And we weep for the rebels who starved alone in a cell
For the price of our freedom is paid with blood
of those IRA men who have died in the mud

Is life so sweet or is peace so dear?
That the weight of chains are easy to bear
For freedom comes to those who fight for its day
So pick up your rifle and join the IRA

Now I am a father and I have a son
The brits are still here, they haven't gone
And Ireland bleeds every year
For in the North there is death and fear
Until it's free, I'll keep my gun
That's what I'm going to tell my son

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Fare thee well until we meet again down by the Liffey water
I'll bid larewell to Dublin and her streets of cobblestones
I'm going away to leave you, my friends and all the girls too
Till I return to see you farewell old Dublin town

To the City of our fathers where friend and foe have gathered
Where the Norman, Dane and Saxon have mingled with he Gael
Administered the kingdom and soon the Pale was reeling
To cradle Ireland's freedom in dear old Dublin town

Down by the river Poddle there was whiskey stout and coddle
it was there with all the gentle folk, we laughed and danced and sang
And courted with your daughters and swam around your waters
And seen our buildings slaughtered in dear Old Dublin Town

I remember in my childhood her mountains and her wild woods
I've read of all her heroes in a classroom as a boy
Of Thomas Street where Emmet died, in Sackville Street they
fought with pride Of when brave Wolfe Tone did ride through dear old Dublin town

Her poets they were many and her writers they were plenty
There was Swift with all his little men and Joyce's Molly Bloom
Our heroes they're an unsung gang there's Forty Coats and ould
Bang Bang And Zozimus who always sang of dear old.Dublin town

And now I'm standing on the Quay, my destiny's uncertain
Where fortunes have been lost and won with he dealing of a hand
The past it is a purple haze, the future is an untold maze
The present is another gaze at dear old Dublin Town

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[Recorded by John Faulkner (with Dolores Keane) on "Farewell To Eirin"
and by Planxty (Christy Moore) on "After The Break" (1979), who notes:
"Christy heard versions of this song sung by John Lyons, Tom Lenihan
an unknown singer on Donnacha O'Dulaing's "Highways And Byways". He received
written versions from Mike Flynn and Seamus Mac Mathuna and there's another
in Zimmerman's Songs of Irish Rebellion"
This seems like a sort of crash course in Irish geography. The lyrics are
those of Faulkner, Moore sings a couple of additional lines and lists even
more place names!]

I am a bold undaunted fox that never was before on tramp
My rent, rate and taxes I was willing for to pay
I made my name in fine good land
Between Tipperary and Ochlong
Where my forefathers lived and died
A thousand years or so

But then of late I was betrayed
By one who was a fool I know,
He told me I should leave the place
And show me face no more
And soon as he evicted me
I thought it time that I should flee
So late one night I took his life and left him laying low

But by telegraph they did insert a great reward for my arrest
My figure, size and form, my name without mistake
They broke their brogues, one thousand pairs
This great reward for to obtain
But still their search was all in vain
For Farmer Michael Hayes

They searched Tipperary o'er and o'er
The corn fields near Baltimore
They went across to Wexford then
But they'd not long delay
By Ballyhill and Stridmore Strand
They searched the woods as they came on
Till they were hungry, wet and cold
At the approach of day

Then round the coast they made a steer
From Pulbeg lighthouse to Cape Clear
Killarney town and the sweet Tralee
They then crossed into Clare
And when they landed on the shore
They searched Kilrush from tip to toe
They searched the baths near sweet Lisdoon
Likewise Miltown Malbay

And Galway being a place of fame
They thought 'twas there I might remain
But still their search was all in vain
For I gave them all legbail
They searched the train at Oranmore
As she was starting for Drumore
And every carriage, car and coach
They met upon the road

And Connemara being remote
They thought that there I might resort
When they were getting weary, they resolved to try Mayo
In Swinford town as I sat down
I heard a dreadful cry of hounds
So I lay there in an manger, till the approach of day

Then to Dublin town I made my way
And then to Cobh and Amerikay
And left the hounds to search away
For Farmer Michael Hayes
And as the moon began to shine
I thought I'd make a foreign clime
Now I'm in the land of liberty, and fig for all my foes


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If I were King of Ireland's Isle
And had all things at my will
I'd roam for recreation
And I'd seek for comfort still
The comfort I would ask for
So that you may understand
Is to win the heart of Martha
The Flower of Sweet Strabane

Her cheeks they are a ruby red
Her hair a lovely brown
And o'er her milk white shoulders
It carelessly hangs down
She is the fairest creature
And the pride of all her clan
And my heart is captivated
By the flower of Sweet Strabane

Well I've been in the Phoenix Park
And in Killarney fair
The lovely glens of Antrim
And the winding banks of Clare
In all my earthly travels
I never yet met one
That could compare, I do declare
With the Flower of Sweet Strabane

But since I cannot gain her love
No joy there is for me
And I must seek forgetfulness
In lands across the sea
Unless she cares to follow me
I swear by my right hand
McKenna's face you'll ne'er more see
My Flower of Sweet Strabane

So it's farewell to sweet Derry Quay
New Mills and Waterside
I'll sail out o'er the ocean
Whatever may betide
I'll sail away from Derry Quay
Out by the Isle of Man
And I'll bid farewell to Martha
The Flower of Sweet Strabane

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For What Died the Sons of Róisín, was it fame?
For What Died the Sons of Róisín, was it fame?
For what flowed Irelands blood in rivers
That began when Brian chased the Dane
And did not cease nor has not ceased
With the brave sons of '16
For what died the sons of Róisín, was it fame?

For What Died the Sons of Róisín, was it greed?
For What Died the Sons of Róisín, was it greed?
Was it greed that drove Wolfe Tone to a paupers death in a cell of cold wet stone?
Will German, French or Dutch inscribe the epitaph of Emmet?
When we have sold enough of Ireland to be but strangers in it
For What Died the Sons of Róisín, was it greed?

To whom do we owe our allegiance today?
To whom do we owe our allegiance today?
To those brave men who fought and died that Róisín live again with pride?
Her sons at home to work and sing
Her youth to dance and make her valleys ring
Or the faceless men who for Mark and Dollar
Betray her to the highest bidder
To whom do we owe our allegiance today?

For what suffer our patriots today?
For what suffer our patriots today?
They have a language problem, so they say
How to write "No Trespass" must grieve their heart full sore
We got rid of one strange language now we are faced with many, many more
For what suffer our patriots today?

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They were the men with the vision the men with the cause
The men who defied their oppressors laws
The men who traded their chains for guns
Born into slavery they were freedoms sons

At Easter time 1916
When flowers bloomed and leaves were green
There dawned a day when freedoms cry
Called on brave men come fight or die

In Dublin town they fought and died
With Pearse McDermott and McBride
Ourselves alone their battle cry
And freedom rang through that Easter sky

A poets dream had sparked that flame
A raging fire it soon became
And from that fire of destiny
Arose a nation proud and free

Six counties are in bondage still
They died brave men was this their will
Until we're free and oppression ceased
Only then brave men shall sleep in peace

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Laws were made for people and the law can never scorn
The right of a man to be free

Free the people, let them have their say
Free the people, let them see the light of day

Addys Madden was breaking when they took her man away
Not knowing what was his crime
Just what he was guilty of not one of them could say
But they think of something in time
He says "Goodbye and remember, we shall overcome"

Comforting her children softly crying in the night
She tries very hard to explain
"You know your daddy never did a thing that wasn't right
So soon he's bound to be home again
He is a good man and he shall overcome"

But does is profit him, the right to be born
If he suffers the loss of liberty
Laws were made for people and the law can never scorn
The right of a man to be free
We are the people and we shall overcome
We are the people and we shall overcome

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Well there's four of us who share the room, we work hard for the brass
And getting up late on Sunday, I never go to mass

It's a long long way from Clare to here
It's a long long way from Clare to here
Oh, it's a long long way, it gets further day by day
It's a long long way from Clare to here

When Friday night comes around and Eddy's only in the fighting
My ma would like a letter home but I'm too tired for writing

Well it almost breaks my heart when I think of Josephine
I promised I'd be coming back with pockets full of green

I dream I hear a piper play maybe it's emotion
I dream I see white horses dance on that other ocean
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