The Irish Lyrics Thread

[Mastertank1]

In honor of Saint Padraig's Day (that was his Gaelic name, ane muir thing the sassenach hae' stalen frae tha braw Erse folk!)
I invite anyone and everyone to post lyrics from any Irish song!

Farewell Muirshin Durkin,
I'm sick and tired o' workin'!
The moment that I'm able,
I'll be off across the sea!
As sure as me name is Barney,
I'm off ta' Californey!
Instead of diggin' taties,
I'll be diggin' chunks o' gold!

Happy Saint Patricks Day!
I LOVE THE IRISH!

Mastertank1

We who play and dance are thought mad by they who hear no music.

 

[Strider]

Being one of the twenty million Americans of Irish descent, I feel the obligation to add something here:

The island it is silent now
But the ghosts still haunt the waves
And the torch lights up a famished man
Who fortune could not save

Did you work upon the railroad
Did you rid the streets of crime
Were your dollars from the white house
Were they from the five and dime

Did the old songs taunt or cheer you
And did they still make you cry
Did you count the months and years
Or did your teardrops quickly dry

Ah, No, says he 'twas not to be
On a coffin ship I came here
And I never even got so far
That they could change my name

Thousands are sailing
Across the Western Ocean
To a land of opportunity
That some of them will never see
Fortune prevailing
Across the Western Ocean
Their bellies full
And their spirits free
They'll break the chains of poverty
And they'll dance

In Manhattan's desert twilight
In the death of afternoon
We stepped hand in hand on Broadway
Like the first man on the moon

And "The Blackbird" broke the silence
As you whistled it so sweet
And in Brendan Behan's footsteps
I danced up and down the street

Then we said goodnight to Broadway
Giving it our best regards
Tipped our hats to Mister Cohan
Dear old Times Square's favourite bard

Then we raised a glass to J.F.K.
And a dozen more besides
When I got back to my empty room
I suppose I must have cried

Thousands are sailing
Again across the ocean
Where the hand of opportunity
Draws tickets in a lottery
Postcards we're mailing
Of sky-blue skies and oceans
From rooms the daylight never sees
Where lights don't glow on Christmas trees
But we dance to the music
And we dance

Thousands are sailing
Across the Western Ocean
Where the hand of opportunity
Draws tickets in a lottery
Where e'er we go, we celebrate
The land that makes us refugees
From fear of Priests with empty plates
From guilt and weeping effigies
Now we dance to the music
And we dance

 

[chicago]

We worked our hands everyday ‘til they were bloody and raw
But they said we didn’t own the land so they took it all
So we packed up all we had and left Ireland’s fields of green
To help build this brave new land America the “free”


The only jobs that we could get
Were on the docks or in a ditch
We carried a shovel and we swung a pick
We worked all day until we were sick
But that didn’t change your minds


We worked our hands everyday until they were bloody and raw
Wiped the sweat from our brow ‘til we heard the whistle call
Now you want to cut our wages out from under our feet
We’ll take it to the Ribbonmen and fight in the streets


We were forced to work the jobs we did
To feed the wife, to feed the kids
We tried so hard to get ahead
But “No Irish Need Apply” was on the sign instead
Callin’ us shanty micks


Labor strikes halted work along the C & O
Ripped up endless miles of tracks along the B & O
Had to send Fort McHenry troops to try and calm us down
If you don’t give us what we want we’ll burn this place to the ground


We carried a shovel and we swung a pick
We worked all day until we were sick
But that didn’t change your minds, we were still nothing but shanty micks
Still forced to work the jobs we got
But at least with the Union we got a shot
To move ahead and be treated with class
And for those who won’t you can kiss my Irish ass
Kiss my Irish ass!

 

[pseudonym]

Some friends and I
in a public house
were playing dominoes one night
Into the room the barman came
his face a ghastly white
"What's up?" says Brown
"Have you seen a ghost?
Have you seen your Aunt Myriah?"
"Oh my Aunt Myriah be buggered!" says he
"The bloody pub's on fire!"

"On Fire!" Says Brown
"What a bit of Luck.
Everybody follow me.
Into the cellar if the fire's not there
we'll have a rare old spree!"

So we all went down after good old Brown
the booze we could not miss
And we weren't there five minutes or more
when we were all half pissed

And there was Brown, upside down
Lappin' up the whiskey on the floor
"Booze! Booze!" the firemen cried
as they came knockin' at the door (KNOCK! KNOCK!)
Don't let them in till it's all mopped up
Somebody shouted "McIntyre!" ("MCINTYRE!")
And we all got blue blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire

Then Smith went over
to the port wine tub
gave it a few hard knocks (KNOCK! KNOCK!)
started taken' off his pantaloons
likewise his shoes and socks
"Hold on!" Says Brown
"You can't do that!
We can't have that in here!
Don't go washin' your trotters
in the port wine tub
when we've got all this lite beer"

And there was Brown, upside down
Lappin' up the whiskey on the floor
"Booze! Booze!" the firemen cried
as they came knockin' at the door (KNOCK! KNOCK!)
Don't let them in till it's all mopped up
Somebody shouted "McIntyre!" ("MCINTYRE!")
And we all got blue blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire

And then there came an awful crash
half the roof gave way
We were drowned in the fireman's hose
But still we were going to stay
So we got some tacks
and our old wet slacks
and nailed ourselves inside
And we sat there swallyin'
pints of stout
till we were bleary eyed!

And there was Brown, upside down
Lappin' up the whiskey on the floor
"Booze! Booze!" the firemen cried
as they came knockin' at the door (KNOCK! KNOCK!)
Don't let them in till it's all mopped up
Somebody shouted "McIntyre!" ("MCINTYRE!")
And we all got blue blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire