Song Lyrics
MOLLY MAGUIRES
(Phil Coulter/Bill Martin)
Chorus:
Make way for the Molly Maguires
They're drinkers, they're liars, but they're men
Make way for the Molly Maguires
You'll never see the likes of them again
Down the mines no sunlight shines
Those pits they're black as hell
In modest style they do their time
It's Paddy's prison cell
And they curse the day they traveled far
And drown their tears with a jar
Chorus:
Make way for the Molly Maguires
They're drinkers, they're liars, but they're men
Make way for the Molly Maguires
You'll never see the likes of them again
Back will break and muscles ache
Down there there's no time to dream
Of fields and farms, a woman's arms
Just dig that bloody seam
Though they drain their bodies underground
Who'll dare to push them around
Chorus:
Make way for the Molly Maguires
They're drinkers, they're liars, but they're men
Make way for the Molly Maguires
You'll never see the likes of them again
So, Make way for the Molly Maguires
They're drinkers, they're liars, but they're men
Make way for the Molly Maguires
You'll never see the likes of them again
MOLLY MALONE
In Dublin's fair city where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
She wheeled her wheel-barrow
Through streets broad and narrow
Cryin' cockles and mussels alive, alive-o
Chorus:
Alive, alive-o, Alive, alive-o
Cryin' cockles and mussels, alive, alive-o
She was a fish monger, sure 'twas no wonder
So were her father and mother before
They wheeled their barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow
Cryin' cockles and mussels alive, alive-o
Chorus
But I was a rover and sailed the seas over
I bid my farewell to sweet Molly Malone
And as I was sailin', the wild winds were wailin'
Cryin' cockles and mussels alive, alive-o
Chorus:
She died of the fever, and no one could save her
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
Now her ghost wheels her barrow
Through streets broad and narrow
Cryin' cockles and mussels alive, alive-o
Chorus
Chorus
THE MOONSHINER
Chorus:
I'm rambler, I'm gambler, I'm a long way from home
And if you don't like me, then leave me alone
I'll eat when I'm hungry, I'll drink when I'm dry
If moonshine don't kill me, I'll live till I die
I've been a moonshiner for manys a year
I spent all me money on whiskey and beer
I'll go to some hollow and set up my still
And I'll make you a gallon for a ten shilling bill
Chorus
I'll go to some hollow in this country
Ten gallons of wash, they can go on a spree
No women to follow and the world is all mine
I love none so well as I love the moonshine
Chorus
O moonshine, dear moonshine, oh how I love thee
You killed me poor father, but dare you try me
Bless all moonshiners and bless all moonshine
Their breath is as sweet as the dew on the vine
Chorus
Chorus
MORMON BRAES
Chorus:
Fare thee well, ye Mormon Braes, for oft times I've been cheery
Fare thee well, ye Mormon Braes, for it's there I've lost my dearie
As I went in by Strachen Toon I heard a fair maid mourning
She was making sair complaint for her true love ne'er returning
Fare thee well, ye Mormon Braes, for oft times I've been cheery
Fare thee well, ye Mormon Braes, for it's there I've lost my dearie
Many a horse has slipped and fell and risen again right early
Many a lass has lost her lad and got another right rarely
Fare thee well, ye Mormon Braes, for oft times I've been cheery
Fare thee well, ye Mormon Braes, for it's there I've lost my dearie
There's as good fish in tae the sea as ever yet were taken
I cast my nets and try again, for I am only once forsaken
Fare thee well, ye Mormon Braes, for oft times I've been cheery
Fare thee well, ye Mormon Braes, for it's there I've lost my dearie
So I will put on my gown of green, as I forsaken told him
And we'll let the young lad know that the bonds of love are broken
Fare thee well, ye Mormon Braes, for oft times I've been cheery
Fare thee well, ye Mormon Braes, for it's there I've lost my dearie
So I'll gang back to Strachen Toon where I was bred and born in,
And I'll get another young lad to marry me in the morning
Fare thee well, ye Mormon Braes, for oft times I've been cheery
Fare thee well, ye Mormon Braes, for it's there I've lost my dearie
MOUNTAINS OF MOURNE
(Words by Percy French, ca 1900. Melody trad.)
Oh Mary, this London's a wonderful sight,
With people here working by day and by night.
They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat
But there's gangs of them diggin' for gold in the street.
At least, when I asked them that's what I was told
So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold;
But for all that I've found there, I might as well be
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed
As to how the fine ladies of London are dressed.
Well if you believe me, when asked to a ball
They don't wear no tops to their dresses at all.
Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not, in truth
Say if they were bound for a ball, or a bath,
Don't be startin' them fashions now, Mary Machree,
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
I've seen England's king from the top of a bus
And I've never known him, but he means to know us.
And tho' by the Saxon we once were oppressed,
Still I cheered, God forgive me, I cheered with the rest.
And now that he's visited Erin's green shore
We'll be much better friends than we've been heretofore
When we've got all we want, we're as quiet as can be
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
You remember young Peter O'Loughlin of course
Well now he is here at the head of the Force.
I met him today, I was crossing the Strand
And he stopped the whole street with a wave of his hand.
And there we stood talking of days that are gone
While the whole population of London looked on;
But for all these great powers, he's wishful, like me
To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.
There's beautiful girls here — Oh, never you mind —
With beautiful shapes nature never designed.
And lovely complexions all roses and cream,
But O'Loughlin remarked with regard to the same
That if at those roses you venture to sip
The colors might all come away on your lip
So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
MOUNTAIN TAY
(THE HILLS OF CONNEMARA)
Chorus:
Gather up the pots and the old tin cans
The mash, the corn, the barley and the bran
Run like the divil from the excise man
Keep the smoke from rising Barney
Keep your eyes well peeled today
The Gumbeen men are on their way
Searching for the mountain tay
In the hills of Connemara
Chorus
A gallon for the butcher, a quart for John
A bottle for poor ould Father Tom
To help the poor ould divil along
In the hills of Connemara
Chorus
Stand your ground, it's not too late
The excise men are at the gate
Glory be to God, they're drinking it neat
In the hills of Connemara
Chorus
Swing to the left and swing to the right
The excise men will dance all night
Drinking up the tay in the broad daylight
In the hills of Connemara
Chorus
Chorus
MR. MOSES RI-TOORAL-I-AY
The Policeman walked out, oh, so proud on his beat,
When a vision came to him of stripes on his sleeve
Promotion he whispered, I'll try for today;
So come with me, Mister Ri-Tooral-i-ay.
Come tell me your name, says the limb of the law.
To the little fat man selling wares on the straw.
What's that sir, me name sir? Why 'tis there on display,
And it's Moses Ri-Tooral-i-ay.
Now the trial came on and lasted a week.
One Judge said 'twas German; another 'twas Greek.
Prove your Irish said the policeman and beyond it say nay;
And we'll sit on it, Moses Ri-Tooral-i-ay.
Now, the prisoner stepped up there as stiff as a crutch.
Are you Irish or English or German or Dutch?
I'm a Jew sir; I'm a Jew sir, that came over to stay,
And my name it is Moses Ri-Tooral-i-ay.
Were two of a kind said the judge to the Jew;
You're a cousin of Brisco and I am one too.
This numskull has blundered and for it will pay.
Wisha that's right, says Moses Ri-Tooral-i-ay.
There's a garbage collector who works down our street
He once was a policeman, the pride of his beat.
And he moans all the night and he groans all the day,
Singing, Moses Ri-Tooral-i-ooral-i-ay.
MRS. McGRATH
"Oh, Mrs. McGrath," the sergeant said, "Would you like to make a soldier out of your son, Ted?
With a scarlet coat, and a big cocked hat, sure, Mrs. McGrath, wouldn't you like that?"
With your too- ri- ay, fol the diddle day, Too- ri- you- ri too- ri- ay.
Now Mrs. McGrath lived by the seashore for the space of seven long years or more;
Till she say a big ship sail into the bay, "Here's my son, Ted, will ye clear the way!"
With your too- ri- ay, fol the diddle day, Too- ri- you- ri too- ri- ay.
"Oh, Captain, dear, where have ye been? ; have you been in the Mediterranean?
Will ye tell me the news of my son, Ted? Is the poor boy livin', or is he dead?"
With your too- ri- ay, fol the diddle day, Too- ri- you- ri too- ri- ay.
Ah, well up comes Ted without any legs an in their place he had two wooden pegs,
Well, she kissed him a dozen times or two, saying "Glory to God?, sure it wouldn't be you!"
With your too- ri- ay, fol the diddle day, Too- ri- you- ri too- ri- ay.
"Oh were ye drunk, or were ye blind that ye left your two fine legs behind?
Or was it while walkin' on the sea a big fish ate your legs from the knees away?"
With your too- ri- ay, fol the diddle day, Too- ri- you- ri too- ri- ay.
"Well, I wasn't drunk and I wasn't blind when I left my two fine legs behind.
But a cannon ball, on the fifth of May, tore my two fine legs from the knees away."
With your too- ri- ay, fol the diddle day, Too- ri- you- ri too- ri- ay.
"Oh, Teddy, me boy," the old widow cried, "Yer two fine legs were yer mammy's pride,
Them stumps of a tree wouldn't do at all, why didn't ye run from the big cannon ball?"
With your too- ri- ay, fol the diddle day, Too- ri- you- ri too- ri- ay.
"Well, all foreign wars I do proclaim between Don John and the King of Spain,
And bejasus I'll make them rue the time what they swept the legs from a child of mine."
With your too- ri- ay, fol the diddle day, Too- ri- you- ri too- ri- ay.
MRS. McGRATH
(PARODY—from the singing of Ciaron Bourke)
With your toor-ri-ya fol da-diddle-ya Toor-ri toor-ri toor-ri-ya
Now, Mrs. McGrath, Dr. Tierney did brag,
Send your so up to college where he can study Ag
He'll a Volkswagen car and a tener a week flat
Mrs. McGrath wouldn't you like that
With your toor-ri-ya fol da-diddle-ya Toor-ri toor-ri toor-ri-ya
Now Mrs. McGrath came from County Clare
And for forty-seven or more years she lived there
She was a milkin' cows and a feedin' pigs
To keep ol' Ciaran in his Dublin digs
With your toor-ri-ya fol da-diddle-ya Toor-ri toor-ri toor-ri-ya
Said a friend one day, "What a terrible shame."
As she swept out the kitchen a letter came
It bore bad news which was not expected
Ciaran had failed four times and he was now rejected
With your toor-ri-ya fol da-diddle-ya Toor-ri toor-ri toor-ri-ya
So Ciaran then wrote back to daddy, he said, "Dear Daddy."
"It wasn't the work and it wasn't the strain
And wasn't on your own darling son that lay the blame."
For when I came up Clare I was an innocent lad
But the fellas in the digs they drove me to the bad
With your toor-ri-ya fol da-diddle-ya Toor-ri toor-ri toor-ri-ya
I tried to stay and work at night,
The fellas in the digs took me out on the skite
And when you sent me me fees now what do you think
Sure I spent all the money on the women and the drink
With your toor-ri-ya fol da-diddle-ya Toor-ri toor-ri toor-ri-ya
So the moral of the story is plain and clear
Stay away from the women and stay off the beer
And if you got a son on the farmer
Keep the young pup there where he'll be out of harm
With your toor-ri-ya fol da-diddle-ya Toor-ri toor-ri toor-ri-ya
MUIRSHEEN DURKIN
In the days I went a courting I was never tired resorting
To an ale house or a playhouse and manys the house beside
I told my brother Seamus I'd go off and become famous
And I never would return again till I'd roam the world wide
Chorus:
Good bye Muirsheen I'm sick and tired of working
No more I'll dig the praties and no longer I'll be fooled
As sure and my name is Kearney I'll be off to Californay
Where instead of digging praties I'll be digging lumps of gold
I've courted girls in Blarney in Kanturk and in Killarney
In Passage and in Queenstown that is the Cobh of Cork
Good bye to all this pleasure I'll be off to take my leisure
And the next time that you'll hear from me will be a letter from New York
Chorus
Good bye to all the girls at home I'm going far across the foam
To try to make my fortune in far Americay
There's gold and jewels in plenty for poor and for the gentry
And when I return again I never more will stray
Chorus
When I landed in Americay I met a man named Burke
He told me if I stay a while He'd surely find me work
But work he didn't find me so there's nothing here to bind me
I'm bound for San Francisco in Californiay
Chorus
I'm now in San Francisco an me fortune it is made
Me pockets loaded down with gold I'll throw away me spade
I'll go back to dear ould Erin spend me fortune never carin'
And I'll marry Queen Victory Muirsheen Durkin for to spite
Chorus
Chorus
THE MUSIC OF HEALING
(Tommy Sands)
Don't beat drum that frightens the children
Don't sing the songs about winning or losing
Sit down beside the green fields are bleeding
Sing me the music of healing
Sing me a song of a lover returning
The darker the night, the nearer the morning
Bring me the news of a new day a dawning
Sing me the music of healing
Chorus:
Ah, ah, the hearts a wonder
Stronger than the guns of thunder
Even when we're torn asunder
Love will come again
Sometimes the truth's like a hare in the cornfield
You know that it's there, but you can't put your arms round it
All we can hope is to follow it's footprints
Sing me the music of healing
Who would have thought I could feel so contented
To learn I was wrong after all of my rambles
I've learned to be hard and I've learned how to tremble
Sing me the music of healing
Chorus
Somehow the cycle of vengeance keeps turning
Till each other's sorrow and songs we start learning
Peace is the prize for those who are daring
Sing me the music of healing
Time is your friend, it cures all your sorrows
But how can I wait till another tomorrow
One step today and a thousand will follow
Sing me the music of healing
Chorus
MY AUNT JANE
My Aunt Jane she brought me in, she gave tea out of her wee tin
Half a bap, a wee snow top, three black lumps out of her wee shop
Half a bap, a wee snow top, three black lumps out of her wee shop
My Aunt has a bell on the door, a white stone step and a clean swept floor
Candy apples and hard green pears, conversation lozenges
Candy apples and hard green pears, conversation lozenges
My Aunt Jane she's awful smart, she baked three rings and a apple tart
And when Halloween comes round, for next that tart I'm always found
And when Halloween comes round, for next that tart I'm always found
My Aunt Jane she can dance a jig, sing a ballad for a sweety pig
Wee red eyes and a cord for a tail, hanging in a bunch from a farthing nail
Wee red eyes and a cord for a tail, hanging in a bunch from a farthing nail
My Aunt has a great wee shop, with luck bags and lime juice rock
Cinnamon buds and yella man, and brandy balls in a bright tin can
Cinnamon buds and yella man, and brandy balls in a bright tin can
MY HARRY WAS A GALLANT GAY
My Harry was a gallant gay fu' stately strode he on the plain
Now he's banish'd far away I'll never see him back again
Chorus:
Oh for him back again, oh for him back again
I wad gie a' knock-has-pie's land for highland Harry back again
When a' the lave pe to their bed, I wander dowie up the glen;
I set me down and greet my fill, and aye I wish him back again.
Chorus:
Oh for him back again, oh for him back again
I wad gie a' knock-has-pie's land for highland Harry back again
Oh, were some villains hangit high, and ilka body had their ain!
Then I might see the joyfu' sight, My Highland Harry back again.
Chorus:
Oh for him back again, oh for him back again
I wad gie a' knock-has-pie's land for highland Harry back again
MY JOHNNY LAD
I bought a wife in Edinburgh for a bawbie
Then I got a penny back to buy tobacco wi'
Chorus:
And wi' you and wi' you and wi' you my Johnny Lad
I'll dance the buckles off my shoes for you my Johnny Lad
As I was walking Sunday, ’twas there I saw the Queen
Playing a game of football wi' the lads of Glasgow Green
The Captain on the other side was scoring in great style
The Queen called the polis man and had him thrown in jail
Solomon and David they led very wicked lives
They went wenchin' every evenin", wi' other people's wives
But sometimes in the evening, when their conscience gave them qualms
Solomon wrote the proverbs and David wrote the psalms
Napoleon was an emperor; he ruled the land and sea
He was king of France and Germany, but didn't rule Jock McGee
Samson was a mighty man, he fought wi' a cuddies jaw
He fought a thousand battles, wearin' crimson flannel drawers
Johnny he's a bonny lad, he is a lad of mine
I've never had a better lad, and I've had twenty-nine
Now Britain's quite a country with strikes and droughts and such
On day we've got nay water and the next too bloody much
This country's in an awful mess its mortgage to the hilt
If they get their way at Westminster they'll pawn your bloody kilt
Now Johnny is a Nationalist, but Johnny he's no fool
Says, "All our problems will be solved when England gets home rule."
Nicky Kelly went tae Scotland "Doon In The Wee Room" for tae sit
Says, Ronnie Browne, "Gae back to Denver, you stupid, ugly git
Then Geoffrey Kent went o'er tae Scotland, tae play a round of Golf
He met wi' Gordon Menzie who told him "bugger off"
Now feeling sad and lonely, they could'nae take no more
So they spent their travel money on the whisky and the whores
The Queen was in the parlor eating bread and honey
The Duke was in the counting house fiddling' Scotland's money
Johnny was a bonny lad until they took him in
He had his operation and now they call him Mary
My Little Armalite
And its up along the bogside that's were I long to be
Lying in the dark with a Provo company
A comrade on my left and another one on my right
And a clip of ammunition for my little Armalite!
I was stopped by a soldier said he "you are a swine"
He beat me with his baton and he kicked me in the groin
I bowed and I scraped, sure my manners were polite
Ah, but all the time I was thinking of my little Armalite!
And it's down along the Falls Road that's were I long to be
Lying in the dark with a Provo company
A comrade on my left and another one on my right
And a clip of ammunition for my little Armalite!
A brave RUC man came walking up our street
With 600 British soldiers gathered round his feet,
Come out ya cowardly Fenians come on out and fight
But he cried I'm only joking when he heard my Armalite!
And its up in Crossmaglen that's were I long to be
Lying in the dark with a Provo company
A comrade on my left and another one on my right
And a clip of ammunition for my little Armalite!
The army came to visit me 'twas in the early hours
With saracens and sirens and bloody armoured cars,
They thought they had me cornered but I gave them all a fright
With the armour, pierce and bullets from my little Armalite!
And it's up in old Belaghty that's were I long to be
Lying in the dark with a Provo company
A comrade on my left and another one on my right
And a clip of ammunition for my little Armalite
When Pryor came to Belfast he said the battle's won
The generals they have told us we have them on the run,
But corporals and privates while on patrol at night
Say "send home for re-enforcement's it's the bloody Armalite!"
And it's up in the New Lodge that's were I long to be
Lying in the dark with a Provo company
A comrade on my left and another one on my right
And a clip of ammunition for my little Armalite
MY LOVE SHE'S BUT A LASSIE YET
(Robert Burns)
My love she's but a lassie yet
Oh My love she's but a lassie yet
We'll let her stand a year or twa
She'll no be half sae saucy yet
I rue the day I sought her O
I rue the day I sought her O
Wha gets her need na say he's woo'd
But he may say he's bought her O
I rue the day I sought her O
I rue the day I sought her O
Wha gets her need na say he's woo'd
But he may say he's bought her O
My love she's but a lassie yet
Oh My love she's but a lassie yet
We'll let her stand a year or twa
She'll no be half sae saucy yet
We're all dry for the drinkin o't
We're all dry for the drinkin o't
The minister kissed the fiddler's wife
He could na preach for thinkin o't
We were all dry for the drinkin o't
We were all dry for the drinkin o't
The minister kissed the fiddler's wife
He could na preach for thinkin o't