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Irish songs

post #1 of 40
Thread Starter 
We're on the one roaaaaad... We're on the one road Sharing the one load We're on the road to God knows where We're on the one road It may be the wrong road But we're together now who cares North men, South men, comrades all Dublin, Belfast, Cork and Donegal We're on the one road swinging along Singing a soldier's song Though we've had our troubles now and then Now is the time to make them up again Sure aren't we all Irish anyhow Now is the time to step together now (Chorus repeat) Tinker, tailor, every mother's son Butcher, baker shouldering his gun Rich man, poor man, every man in line All together just like Old Land Syne (Chorus repeat) Night is darkest just before the dawn From dissention Ireland is reborn Soon we'll all be United Irishmen Make our land a Nation Once Again
post #2 of 40


Note to self: Don't open this thread again.
post #3 of 40
An Irish boy was leaving
Leaving his native home
Crossing the broad Atlantic
Once more he wished to roam
And as he was leaving his mother
While standing on the Quay
He threw his arms around her waist
And this to her did say..

Chorus:
"A mother's love is a blessing
No matter where you roam
Keep her while she's living
You'll miss her when she's gone
Love her as in childhood
When feeble, old, and grey
For you'll never miss a mother's love
'Til she's buried beneath the clay"

And as the years grow onward
I'll settle down in life
And I'll choose a nice young colleen
And take her for my wife
And as the kids grow older
They'll play around my knee
And I'll teach them the very same lesson
That my mother taught to me
post #4 of 40
This is a nice lullabuy.(too much soy) Traditional song with Tommy Makems take on the lyrics. Pretty melody.(Im a fag)


The October winds lament around the castle of Dromore
Yet peace is in her lofty halls, my loving treasure store
Though autumn leaves may droop and die, a bud of spring are you

Chorus:
Sing hushabye loo, low loo, low lan
Hushabye loo, low loo

Dread spirits all of black water, Clan Owen's wild banshee
Bring no ill wind to him nor us, my helpless babe and me
And Holy Mary pitying us to Heaven for grace doth sue

Take time to thrive, my ray of hope, in the garden of Dromore
Take heed, young eaglet, till thy wings are feathered fit to soar
A little rest and then the world is full of work to do
A little rest and then the world is full of work to do
post #5 of 40
Mccormack and richard tauber are singing by the bed
Theres a glass of punch below your feet and an angel at your head
Theres devils on each side of you with bottles in their hands
You need one more drop of poison and youll dream of foreign lands

When you pissed yourself in frankfurt and got syph down in cologne
And you heard the rattling death trains as you lay there all alone
Frank ryan brought you whiskey in a brothel in madrid
And you decked some fucking blackshirt who was cursing all the yids
At the sick bed of cuchulainn we'll kneel and say a prayer
And the ghosts are rattling at the door and the devils in the chair

And in the euston tavern you screamed it was your shout
But they wouldnt give you service so you kicked the windows out
They took you out into the street and kicked you in the brains
So you walked back in through a bolted door and did it all again
At the sick bed of cuchulainn well kneel and say a prayer
And the ghosts are rattling at the door and the devils in the chair

You remember that foul evening when you heard the banshees howl
There was lousy drunken bastards singing billy is in the bowl
They took you up to midnight mass and left you in the lurch
So you dropped a button in the plate and spewed up in the church

Now youll sing a song of liberty for blacks and paks and jocks
And theyll take you from this dump youre in and stick you in a box
Then theyll take you to cloughprior and shove you in the ground
But youll stick your head back out and shout well have another round
At the graveside of cuchulainn well kneel around and pray
And God is in his heaven, and billys down by the bay
post #6 of 40
Just a question: What is the song the cops are singing in the bar at the end of the last season of The Wire?
post #7 of 40
Quote:
Originally Posted by thekunk07 View Post
And as he was leaving his mother
While standing on the Quay
He threw his arms around her waist
And this to her did say..

I always thought "Quay" was pronounced "key." But I guess it's slant rhyme.

Quote:
And come, tell me Sean O'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so?
"Hush a bhuachaill, hush and listen", and his cheeks were all aglow,
"I bear orders from the captain: get you ready quick and soon
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon"
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon,

For the pikes must be together at the rising of the moon

"And come tell me Sean O'Farrell where the gath'rin is to be?"
"In the old spot by the river, quite well known to you and me.
One more word for signal token: whistle out the marchin' tune,
With your pike upon your shoulder, at the rising of the moon."
At the rising of the moon, at the rising of the moon
With your pike upon your shoulder, at the rising of the moon.

Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through the night,
Many a manly heart was beatin, for the blessed morning light.
Murmurs ran along the valleys to the banshee's lonely croon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon.
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon. At the rising of the moon...

All along that singing river that black mass of men was seen,
High above their shining weapons flew their own beloved green.
"Death to every foe and traitor! Whistle out the marching tune."
And hurrah my boys for freedom; 'tis the rising of the moon".
Tis the rising of the moon, tis the rising of the moon
And hurrah my boys for freedom; 'Tis the rising of the moon".

Well they fought for poor old Ireland, and full bitter was their fate,
Oh what glorious pride and sorrow, fills the name of ninety-eight!
Yet, thank God, e'en still are beating hearts in manhood burning noon,
Who would follow in their footsteps, at the risin' of the moon
By the rising of the moon, By the rising of the moon
Who would follow in their footsteps, at the risin' of the moon.

post #8 of 40
Thread Starter 
This is one of the most awesome songs evar. Fiach is one of my favorite Irish war chieftains. Many English scum died at his hand! "Lift MacCahir Óg 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 Fiach MacHugh O'Byrne. Chorus; Curse and swear Lord Kildare Fiach will do what Fiach will dare Now FitzWilliam, have a care Fallen is your star low Up with halberd out with sword On we'll go for by the lord Fiach MacHugh has given the word, Follow me up to Carlow! See the swords of Glen Imall, flashing o'er the English Pale See all the children of the Gael, beneath O'Byrne's banners Rooster of a 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 Óg 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!"
post #9 of 40
Quote:
Originally Posted by Amar ezzahi View Post
Just a question: What is the song the cops are singing in the bar at the end of the last season of The Wire?

Pogues "Body of an American"

There's a line in there "man of wire"
post #10 of 40
i think it's pronounced kay. anyway, they played this at my nana's funeral and it damn near killed me too.


Quote:
Originally Posted by shoreman1782 View Post
I always thought "Quay" was pronounced "key." But I guess it's slant rhyme.
post #11 of 40
In eighteen hundred and forty one
Me corduroy breeches I put on
Me corduroy breeches I put on
To work upon the railway, the railway
I'm weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty two
From Bartley Pool I moved to Crewe
And I found meself a job to do
Workin' on the railway

I was wearing corduroy britches
Digging ditches, pulling switches, dodging hitches
I was workin' on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty three
I broke me shovel across me knee
And went to work with the company
In the Leeds and Selby Railway

I was wearing corduroy britches
Digging ditches, pulling switches, dodging hitches
I was workin' on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty four
I landed on the Liverpool shore
Me belly was empty, me hands were soar
With workin' on the railway, the railway
I'm weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty five
When Daniel O'Connell he was alive
Daniel O'Connell he was alive
And workin' on the railway

I was wearing corduroy britches
Digging ditches, pulling switches, dodging hitches
I was workin' on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty six
I changed me trade from carryin' bricks
Changed me trade from carryin' bricks
To work upon the railway

I was wearing corduroy britches
Digging ditches, pulling switches, dodging hitches
I was workin' on the railway

In eighteen hundred and forty seven
Poor Paddy was thinkin' of goin' to heaven
Poor Paddy was thinkin' of goin' to heaven
To work upon the railway, the railway
I'm weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway

I was wearing corduroy britches
Digging ditches, pulling switches, dodging hitches
I was workin' on the railway
post #12 of 40
Paddy's Lament


Well it's by the hush, me boys, and sure that's to hold your noise
And listen to poor Paddy's sad narration
I was by hunger stressed, and in poverty distressed
So I took a thought I'd leave the Irish nation

Well I sold me ass and cow, my little pigs and sow
My little plot of land I soon did part with
And me sweetheart Bid McGee, I'm afraid I'll never see
For I left her there that morning broken-hearted

Here's you boys, now take my advice
To America I'll have ye's not be going
There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin

Well myself and a hundred more, to America sailed o'er
Our fortunes to be making we were thinkin'
When we got to Yankee land, they put guns into our hands
"Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln"

Here's you boys, now take my advice
To America I'll have ye's not be going
There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin

General Meagher to us he said, if you get shot or lose your head
Every murdered soul of youse will get a pension
Well in the war lost me leg, they gave me a wooden peg
And by soul it is the truth to you I mention

Here's you boys, now take my advice
To America I'll have ye's not be going
There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin

Well I think myself in luck, if I get fed on Indianbuck
And old Ireland is the country I delight in
To the devil, I would say, it's curse Americay
For the truth I've had enough of your hard fightin

Here's you boys, now take my advice
To America I'll have ye's not be going
There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin
I wish I was at home
I wish I was at home
I wish I was at home
I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin
post #13 of 40
It's pronounced "kay" but many pronounce it as key. Kilmore Quay pronounced "Kilmore Key"
post #14 of 40
Similar to Piobaire's there's "I Wish I Was Back Home in Derry"--to the tune of the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, attributed to Bobby Sands.

In 1803 we sailed out to sea
Out from the sweet town of Derry
For Australia bound if we didn't all drown
And the marks of our fetters we carried
In the rusty iron chains we sighed for our weans
As our good women we left in sorrow
As the mainsails unfurled our curses we hurled
On the English and thoughts of tomorrow

VERSE 2

at the mouth of the Foyle, bid farewell to the soil
as down below decks we were lying
O'Doherty screamed, woken out of a dream
by vision of bold Robert dying
the sun burnt cruel, as we dished out the gruel
Dan O'Connor was down with a fever
sixty rebels today, bound for Botany bay
how many will reach their receiver

<CHORUS>

Oh Oh Oh Oh I wish I was back home in Derry
Oh Oh Oh Oh I wish I was back home in Derry

VERSE3

I cursed them to hell as our bow fought the swell
Our ship danced like a moth in the firelight
White horses rode high as the devil passed by
Taking souls to Hades by twilight.
Five weeks out to sea we were now forty-three
Our comrades we buried each morning.
In our own slime we were lost in a time.
Endless night without dawning.

<CHORUS>

Oh Oh Oh Oh I wish I was back home in Derry
Oh Oh Oh Oh I wish I was back home in Derry

VERSE 4

Van Dieman's land is a hell for a man
To live out his life in slavery
Where the climate is raw and the gun makes the law
Neither wind nor rain cares for bravery
Twenty years have gone by and I've ended my bond
My comrades' ghosts walk behind me
A rebel I came and I'm still the same
On the cold winds of night you will find me

<CHORUS>

Oh Oh Oh Oh I wish I was back home in Derry
Oh Oh Oh Oh I wish I was back home in Derry
oh oh oh oh I wish i was back home in Derry
post #15 of 40
A hungry feeling, came o'er me stealing
And the mice they were squealing in my prison cell
And that auld triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal.

Oh to start the morning, the warden bawling
Get up out of bed you, and clean out your cell
And that auld triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal.

Oh the screw was peeping and the lag was sleeping
As he lay weeping for his girl Sal
And that auld triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal.

On a fine spring evening, the lag lay dreaming
And the seagulls were wheeling high above the wall
And that auld triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal.

Oh the wind was sighing, and the day was dying
As the lag lay crying in his prision cell
And that auld triangle, went jingle bloody jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal.

In the female prison there are seventy women
And I wish it was with them that I did dwell
And that auld triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal.
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