Songs

My name is Thomas Muir, as a lawyer I was trained,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill,
But they branded me an outlaw, for sedition I’m arraigned,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill,
But I never preached sedition in any shape or form,
And against the constitution I have never raised a storm,
It’s the scoundrels who corrupted it that I want to reform,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill.

My Lord, you’ve judged me guilty, before the trial began,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill,
And the jury that you’ve picked are Tory policemen to a man,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill,
Yet here I stand for judgement, and afraid what might befall,
Though your spies were in my parish kirk, and in my fathers hall,
Not one of them can testify I ever broke a law,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill.

Yes I spoke to Paisley weavers and I addressed the city’s youth,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill,
For neither age nor class should be a barrier to the truth,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill,
Yet you may well chastise them with your vitriolic tongue,
You say that books are dangerous for those I moved among,
But the future of this land is with the workers and the young,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill.

Members of the jury, it is not I who’s being tried,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill,
200 years in future, they will mind what you decide,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill,
You may send me to Van Diemens Land, or clap me in the jail,
Grant me death, grant me liberty, my spirit will not fail,
For my cause it is a just one, and my cause it will prevail,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill.

With quiet words and dignity, Muir led his own defence,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill,
He appeared completely blameless to those with common sense,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill,
When he had finished speakin’, the court rang out with cheers,
Lord Bracksfield said ‘this outburst just confirms our deepest fears’,
And he sentenced Thomas Muir to be transported 14 years,
Remember Thomas Muir of Hunters Hill.

trad ‘arr A.Bools
(there’s a lot of repetition in this so it’s all in the delivery.)

Who is that there knocking me window pane?
Who is that there knocking me window pane?
Who is that there knocking me window pane?
Only me says Cúnla..

Cúnla dear don’t come any nearer to me!
Cúnla dear don’t come any nearer to me!
Cúnla dear don’t come any nearer to me!
Maybe I shouldn’t says Cúnla

Who is that there knocking me front door?
Who is that there knocking me front door?
Who is that there knocking me front door?
Only me says Cúnla.

Cúnla dear don’t come any nearer to me!
Cúnla dear don’t come any nearer to me!
Cúnla dear don’t come any nearer to me!
Maybe I shouldn’t says Cúnla

Who is that there kissing the toes of me?
Who is that there kissing the toes of me?
Who is that there kissing the toes of me?
Only me says Cúnla!

Cúnla dear don’t come any nearer to me!
Cúnla dear don’t come any nearer to me!
Cúnla dear don’t come any nearer to me!
Maybe I shouldn’t says Cúnla

Who is that there kissing the thighs off me?
Who is that there kissing the thighs off me?
Who is that there kissing the thighs off me?
Only me says Cúnla!

Cúnla dear don’t come any nearer to me!
Cúnla dear don’t come any nearer to me!
Cúnla dear don’t come any nearer to me!

I ALREADY HAVE says Cúnla!!

When apples still grow in November
When blossoms still bloom from each tree,
When leaves are still green in December,
It’s then that our land will be free.
I wander her hills and her valleys,
And still through my sorrow I see
A land that has never known freedom
And only her rivers run free.

I drink to the death of her manhood,
Those men who’d rather have died
Than to live in the cold chains of bondage,
To bring back their rights were denied.
Oh where are you now when we need you,
What burns where the flame used to be,
Are ye gone like the snows of last winter,
And will only our rivers run free.

How sweet is life but we’re crying
How mellow the wine that were dry
How fragrant the rose, but it’s dying,
How gentle the wind, but it’s sighs.
What good is in youth when it’s aging,
What joy is in eyes that can’t see,
When there’s sorrow in sunshine and flowers,
And still only our rivers run free.

Chorus:-
Deep is the snow that sweeps Glencoe
And covers the grave O’Donnell
Cruel was the foe that raded Glencoe
And murdered the house of McDonald.

They came in the night we offered them heat
A room for their heads dry shoes for their feet
We wined them we dined them they ate from our meat
And they slept in the house of McDonald.

Repeat Chorus:

They came from Fort Wiliam with murder in mind
The Campbell had ordered King William had signed
Put all to the sword and the words underline it
Leave no-one alive named McDonald.

They came in the night while our men were asleep
That band of argiles through snow soft and deep
Like murdering Fox’s among helpless sheep
And they slaughtered the house of McDonald.

Repeat Chorus:

Some died in their bbeds at the hand of the foe
Some fled in the night and were lost in the snow
Some lived to accuse him that struck the first blow
But gone was the house of McDonald.

Repeat Chorus

From Derry Quay we sailed away
On the 23rd of June
We were boarded by a peasant crew
All bound for America.
Fresh water there we did take on
5000 gallons or more
In case we’d run short on our way
To New York.
Far away from my Shamrock Shore.

Chorus:-
So its fare thee well sweet Lisa dear
And likewise to Derry Town
And twice fare well to my comrade boys
Who dwell on that sacred ground
If fortune it ever should favour me
And I to have money in store.
I’ll come back and I’ll wed the wee lassie
I left far away on that Shamrock Shore.

Three weeks out to sea, we were all sea sick
Not a man on board was free
We were all confined onto our bunks
With no one to pity poor me
No father kind nor mother dear
To hold up my head when it’s sore
Which made me think more of the Lassie
I left far behind on that Shamrock Shore

Repeat Chorus:

Well we safely reached the other side
In 3 and 20 days.
We were taken as passengers by a man
And led round in 6 different ways.
We each of us drank a parting glass
In case we might never meet more
And we drank a helath to old Ireland
And to Paddys Green Shamrock Shore.

Repeat Chorus:

Lift, Mac Cahir Oge your face, brooding o’er the old disgrace,
That black Fitzwilliam stormed your place and drove you to the fern.
Grey said victory was sure, soon the firebrand he’d secure
Until he met at Glenmalure Fiach Mac Hugh 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 Mac Hugh has given his word, follow me up to Carlow.

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

Repeat Chorus:

Now from Saggart to Clonmore, flows a stream of Saxon gore,
And great is Rory Oge O’More at sending loons to hades.
White is sick and Grey has fled, now for black Fitzwilliam’s head,
We’ll send it over dripping red, to Liza and her ladies.

Near Banbridge Town in the County Down,
One morning last July,
Down a boreen green came a sweet colleen,
And she smiled as she passed me by.
She looked so sweet from her two bare feet,
To the sheen of her nut-brown hair,
Such a coaxing elf, sure I shook myself
For to see I was really there.

Chorus:-
From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay,
And from Galway to Dublin Town,
No maid I’ve seen like the brown colleen,
That I met in the County Down.

As she onward sped, sure I scratched my head,
And I looked with a feeling rare,
And I says, says I, to a passer-by,
“Who’s the maid with the nut-brown hair?”
He smiled at me and he says, says he,
“That’s the gem of Ireland’s crown,
Young Rosie McCann from the Banks of the Bann,
She’s the star of the County Down.”

Repeat Chorus:

At the harvest fair she’ll be surely there,
So I’ll dress in my Sunday clothes,
With my shoes shone bright and my hat cocked right,
For a smile from my nut-brown rose.
No pipe I’ll smoke, no horse I’ll yoke,
Till my plough is a rust-coloured brown,
Till a smiling bride by my own fireside,
Sits the star of the County Down.

Repeat Chorus:

It’s of a jolly beggarman came tripping o’er the plains.
He came unto a farmer’s door a lodging for to gain.
The farmer’s daughter she came down and viewed him cheek and chin,
She says he is a handsome man, I pray you take him in.

Chorus:-
We’ll go no more a roving, a roving in the night,
We’ll go no more a roving less the moon shines a bright,
We’ll go no more a roving.

He would not lie in the barn, nor yet within the bier,
But he would in the corner, lie down by the kitchen fire,
But then the beggar’s bed was made, of good clean sheets and hay,
And down beside the kitchen fire, the jolly beggar lay.

Repeat Chorus:

The farmer’s daughter she got up to close the kitchen door.
But there she saw the beggar standing naked on the floor.
He took the daughter in his arms, and to the bed he ran,
Kind sir, be easy now, you’ll waken my old man.

Repeat Chorus:

Oh no, you are no beggar, you are some gentleman.
For you have stole my maidenhead and I am quite undone.
I am a lord, I am a squire of beggars I be one,
And beggars they be robbers all, and you are quite undone,

Repeat Chorus:

She took the bed in both her hands, and threw it at the wall.
Says go ye with the beggar-man, my maidenhead and all.

Repeat Chorus:

A German clockwinder to Dublin once came,
Benjamin Fooks was the ould German’s name,
And as he was winding his way round the Strand,
He played on his flute and the music was grand.

CHORUS:-
Singing toola-lumma, tool-a-lumma, tool-lil-iaye etc.

Oh there was a young lady from Grosvenor Square,
Who said that her clock was in need of repair
In walks the bould German and to her delight,
In less than five minutes he had her clock right.

Repeat Chorus:

Now as they were seated down on the floor,
There came this very loud knock on the door,
In walked her husband and great was his shock
For to see the ould German wind up his wife’s clock.

Repeat Chorus:

The husband says he ‘Now look here Mary Anne,
Don’t let that bould German come in here again.
He wound up your clock and left mine on the shelf,
If your oul’ clock needs winding, sure I’ll wind it meself!’

Repeat Chorus:

Chorus:-
Red is the rose by yonder garden grows
And fair is the lily of the valley
Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne
But my love is fairer than any.

‘T was down by Killarney’s green woods that we strayed
And the moon and the stars they were shining
The moon shone its rays on her locks of golden hair,
And she swore she’d be my love for ever.

Repeat Chorus…

It’s not for the parting that my sister pains
It’s not for the grief of my mother
It is all for the loss of my bonnie Irish lass
That my heart is breaking for ever.

Repeat Chorus…..

In the merry month of May from my home I started,
Left the girls of Tuam nearly broken-hearted,
Saluted father dear, kissed my darlin’ mother,
Drank a pint of beer, my grief and tears to smother,
Then off to reap the corn and leave where I was born.
I cut a stout blackthorn to banish ghost and goblin,
In a bran’ new pair of brogues I rattled o’er the bogs
And frightened all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three, four, five, hunt the hare and turn her
Down the rocky road all the way to Dublin
Whack fol-lol-de-da.

In Mullingar that night, I rested limbs so weary,
Started by daylight next morning light and airy,
Took a drop of the pure, to keep my heart from sinking ,
That’s an Irishman’s cure, whene’er he’s on for drinking.
To see the lassies smile, laughing all the while,
At my daring smile, ‘twould set your heart-a-bubblin’,
Till I was almost tired of the rocky road to Dublin.

In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity
To be so soon deprived a view of that fine city,
When I took a stroll all among the quality
My bundle it was stole in that neat locality.
Something crossed my mind, then I looked behind,
No bundle I could find upon my stick a-wobblin’
Enquirin’ for the rogue, they said my Connaught brogue,
Wasn’t much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin.

From there I got away, my spirits never failin’,
Landed on the Quay as the ship was sailin’,
Captain at me roared, said that no room had he
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy
Down among the pigs, I played some funny rigs,
Danced some hearty jigs, the water round me bubblin’
When off Holyhead I wished myself was dead
Or better far instead, on the rocky road to Dublin.

The boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed,
Called meself the fool, I could no longer stand it
Blood began to boil, temper I was losin,
Poor old Erin’s Isle they began abusin’.
Hurrah me soul said I, me shillelagh I let fly,
Some Galway boys came by, they saw I was a hobblin’
With a loud hurrah, they joined in the affray
And quickly cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin.

Kind friends & companions
Come join me in rhyme,
Come lift up your voices
In chorus with mine.
Come lift up your voices
All grief to refrain
For we may or might never
All meet here again.

CHORUS:
So here’s a health
To the company & one to my lass,
Lets drink & be merry
All out of one glass.
Let’s drink and be merry
All grief to refrain,
For we may or might never
All meet here again.

Our ship lies at anchor
She is ready to dock,
I wish her safe landing
Without any shock.
And if ever we should meet here
By land or by sea,
I will always remember your kindness to me.

CHORUS:
So here’s a health…..

Here’s a health to the wee girl that I love so
Well, for kindness & beauty there is none to excel
There’s a smile upon her countenance
As she sits upon my knee
There is no one in this wide world
As happy as me HUP!

CHORUS:
So here’s a health…….

As I roved out one bright May morning
To view the meadow and the flowers gay,
Whom should I spy but my own true lover
As she sat under yon willow tree.

I took off my hat and I did salute her,
I did salute her most courageously.
When she turned around the tears fell from her,
Saying false young man you have deluded me.

A diamond ring I own I gave you,
A diamond ring to wear on your right hand,
But the vows you made, love, you went and broke them
And married the lassie that had the land.

If I married the lassie that had the land, my love,
It’s that I’ll rue until the day I die.
Where misfortune falls, sure no man can shun it,
I was blindfolded, I’ll ne’er deny.

Now at nights when I go to my bed of slumber
The thoughts of my true love run in my mind.
When I turn around to embrace my darling
Instead of gold sure it’s brass I find.

I wish the queen would call home her army
From the West Indies, America and Spain,
And every man to his wedded woman
In hopes that you and I shall meet again.

Andy Irvine & Paul Brady

After the morning there comes an evening,
And after the evening there comes another day,
And after false love there comes a true love
I’ll have you listen now to what I say.

My love he is as fine a young man
As fair as any the sun shines on,
But how to save him I do not know it
For he has a sentence for to be hung.

As he was marching the streets of Derry
He looked as fine a young man as I could see.
Being much more like a commanding officer
Than a man to die upon the gallows tree.

Oh what keeps my love so long a-coming,
What detains her so long from me.
Well does she think it some shame or scandal
To see me dying upon the gallows tree.

Well he looked around and he saw her coming
As she rode swifter than the wind,
I’ll let them see that they dare not hang you,
And I’ll crown my love with a bunch of green.

When I was a fair maid about seventeen,
I listed in the navy for to save the Queen.
I listed in the navy a sailor lad to stand,
For to hear the cannons rattle and the music so grand.
The music so grand, the music so grand,
For to hear the cannons rattle and the music so grand.

The officer that listed me was a tall and handsome man,
He said you’ll make a sailor so come along my man.
My waist being tall and slender, my fingers long and thin,
And the very soon they learned me, I soon exceeded them.
I soon exceeded them, I soon exceeded them,
And the very soon they learned me, I soon exceeded them.

They sent me to my bed, they sent me to my bunk,
To lie with a sailor I never was afraid.
But taking off my blue coat sure it often made me smile,
For to think I was a sailor and a maiden all the while.
A maiden all the while, a maiden all the while,
For to think I was a sailor and a maiden all the while.

They sent me off to London for to guard the tower,
And I’m sure I might be there till my very dying hour,
But a lady fell in love with me, I told her I was a maid,
She went up to the captain and my secret she betrayed.
My secret she betrayed, my secret she betrayed,
She went up to the captain and my secret she betrayed.

The captain he came up to me, he asked if this was so,
I dare not, I dare not, I dare not say no.
It’s a pity we should lose you such a sailor lad you made,
It’s a pity we should lose you such a handsome young maid.
A handsome young maid, a handsome young maid,
It’s a pity we should lose you such a handsome young maid.

So fare thee well my captain, you’ve been so kind to me,
And likewise my shipmates I’m sorry to part with thee.
But if ever the navy needs a lad a sailor I’ll remain,
I’ll put on my hat and feathers and I’ll run the riggin’ again.
I’ll run the riggin’ again, I’ll run the riggin’ again,
I’ll put on me hat and feathers and I’ll run the riggin’ again.

Andy M Stewart

Have you seen him on the corner,
His lip would reach the pavement,
He’s been hiding from his razor,
Is he not an awful sight.
In love he was the purest,
Now he’s frightening our tourists,
If he’d gone and asked his father,
I’m sure he’d set him right.

CHORUS:
Saying,
Take her in your arms
And tell her that you love.
Take her in your arms
And hold that woman tight.
Won’t you take her in your arms
And tell her that you love her.
If you’re going to love a woman
Then be sure and do it right.

Well he met at a disco,
In a drive in San Francisco,
And it all might have been different
Had he seen her in the daylight.
She was painted, she was scented,
But she drove your man demented.
If he’d gone and asked his father,
I’m sure he’d set him right.

Chorus: Saying…..

Here’s a pub with fun and laughter,
The landlord’s buying bevvy,
There’s a session in the corner
And the craic is grand tonight.
But your man who lost his woman
He’s still at home lamenting,
If he’d gone and asked his father
I’m sure he’d set him right.

Chorus

Now depression’s not a million laughs,
But suicide’s too dangerous.
Don’t go leapin’ out of buildings,
In the middle of the night.
It’s not the fall but landing,
That will alter social standing.
So go first and ask your father
And I’m sure he’ll set you right.

Chorus

Here’s a health to all true lovers,
Their sisters and their brothers,
and their uncles and their grannies.
For this thing is black and whole.
If you’re keen to start romancing
With it’s leapin’ and it’s dancin’,
Then go first and ask your father
And I’m sure he’ll set you right.

Chorus.

Matt Maloney
The Green Fields of America

Let your quacks and newspapers
Be cut in their capers
For curin’ the vapours,
The scratch and the gout.
With their magical potions,
Their serums and lotions,
Upholdin’ the notions,
They’re all mighty put out.

Who knows the true physic,
Of all that’s pathetic,
And pitch to the devil,
Cram, cholic and spleen.
You’ll never take pink,
If you take a big drink,
With your mouth to the brink
Of a jug of poteen.

(Chorus)
So stick to the creatur, the best thing in nature,
For curin’ your sorrows, and heightenin’ your joys,
Oh what botheration, no cure in the nation,
Can bring consolation, like poteen, me boys.

As a child in the cradle, me nurse with her ladle,
Was fillin’ me mouth with a notion of pep,
When a drop from the bottle, fell into me throttle,
I capered and scrambled clean out of her lap.

On the floor I lay bawlin’, and screamin’ and crawlin’,
‘Till me father and mother were called to the fore,
Oh sobbin’ and sighin’, they thought I was dyin’,
But soon found I was only cryin’ for more.

So stick to………
(Oh often they’d chuckle, those babes in their throttle,
If just they could suckle on poteen me boys.)

Through me youthful aggression, and times of depression,
My childhood impressions, still cling to my mind.
And at school or at college, the basis for knowledge,
I never could gulp ’till with whiskey combined.

And as older I’m growin’, times ever bestowin’,
On lines of potation, a flower so fine,
And the way they might lecture, on Jove and his nectar,
Itself is the only true liquid divine.

So stick to the creatur…….
(Oh lord it’s the right thing, for courtin’ and fighting,
There’s none so exciting, as poteen me boys.)

Come guess me this riddle, what beats pipes and fiddle,
What’s hotter than mustard and milder than cream,
What best fits your whistle, what’s clearer than crystal,
What’s sweeter than honey, and stronger than steam?

What will make the lame walk, what will make the dumb talk,
The lister of life and philosophers stone,
What helped Mr. Bronon to dig the Thames tunnel,
Sure wasn’t poteen from old Inis Or?

So stick……….
(Sure ’twas no wonder, if lightnin’ an thunder,
Weren’t made from the plunder of poteen me boys.)

Now ye maidens pathetic, with lovers athletic,
For liquid cosmetic, you can’t beat the drop.
With the glow to your cheeks, it will make your heart leap,
It would quieten an old stallion and tame an old cob.

From the mouth you would drool, be reduced to a fool,
You’d kick up your heels and you’d peel to the buff,
And while you’d be athletic, and she’d be pathetic,
If only she’d take a few drops of the stuff.

So stick……..
(For there’s nothing like whiskey, to make maidens frisky,
It soon separates all the men from the boys.)

Thom Moore
As I took the road from Killeshandra, weary I sat down,
It’s twelve long miles around the lake to get to Cavan town,
Through Oughter and the road I go was once beyond repair,
And I curse the time it takes to reach my Cavan girl so fair.

The autumn shades are on the leaves, the trees will soon be bare,
Each red-gold leaf, it seems to me, the colours of her hair,
My eyes retreat to find my feet, and once again I spy,
The broken pools of sky remind me, the colours of her eyes

Oh at Cavan cross on Sunday morning, there she can be found,
She seems to have the eye of every boy in Cavan town,
If my luck will hold I’ll have the golden sunshine of her smile,
And to break the hearts of Cavan men, I’ll talk to her a while.

So next Sunday evening finds me homeward Killeshandra bound,
To work all week, then I’ll return, and court in Cavan town,
When asked if she would be my bride, at least she’ld not said no,
So next Sunday morning I’ll rouse myself, and back to her I’ll go.

The small birds were lining the bleak Autumn branches, preparing to fly to a far sunny shore
When the tinkers made camp at the bend on the river, coming back from the horse fair in Ballinasloe
Now the harvest being over the farmer went walking, all along the fair river that borders his land
And t’was there he first saw her twixt the fire light and water
The Tinkerman’s daughter the red headed Anne.

Next morning he arose from a night without slumber, he went straight to the father and he made his case known
And at a Pub in Listowel they struck up a bargain, to the Tinker a pony, to the daughter a home
Where the trees cast their shadows along the fair river, the tinker and the farmer inspected the land
And a wild gelant pony was the price they agreed on for the Tinkerman’s daughter, the red headed Anne.

Well the wedding was soon over and the tinkers departed
They were eager to travel on South down the road
But the crunch of the iron shed wheels on the gravel
Was a bitter to her as the way she’d been sold
But she tried hard to please him she did ale his bidding
She slept in his bed and she worked on the land
But the wall of his cottage pressed tighter and tighter, round the Tinkerman’s daughter, the red headed Anne.

Now as white as the hands of a priest or a clergyman
The snow spread its blanket the next Christmas round
And the Tinkerman’s daughter go out from the bedside
Turned her back to the land and her face toward the town
And tis said someone saw her at dusk that same evening
She was making her way down by
And that was the last that the settled folk saw her, the Tinkerman’s daughter, the red headed Anne.

Where the North Kerry hill cut a field in Listowel
At a farm on its bank lives a bitter old man
And he swore by the shot gun that he keeps at his bed side
That he’ll shoot any tinker who camp on his land
And yet when he hear iron shed wheels crunch on gravel
On a horse in the shafts of a bright caravan.

His days were tormented, he is nightly demented by the Tinkermans daughter, the red headed Anne.