| Lyrics | Song |
|---|
| In Mountjoy Jail, one Monday morning, high upon the gallows tree... | |
| What did i have said the fine old woman. What did i have this fine old woman did say... | |
| Seven hundred peelers couldn't catch him. The king sent out an order for to lash him... | |
| I've courted girls in Blarney, in Kanturk and in Killarney, in Passage and in Queenstown that is the Cobh of Cork. | |
| Last night as i lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by, my mind being bent on rambling to Ireland i did fly... | |
| A hungry feelin' came o'er me stealin', and the mice were squealin' in my prison cell... | |
| And the only time i feel alright is when i'm into drinking, it eases off the pain a bit and levels out my thinking... | |
| There is nought in the land of the slave or the free, like the green hills of Cork and my home by the Lee... | |
| By a lonely harbour wall she watched the last star falling, as the prison ship sailed out against the sky... | |
| This country of ours has for long been half free, six counties are under John Bull's tyranny... | |
| Oh i leave aside my pick and spade, i leave aside my plough, and i leave aside my old grey mare for no more i'll need them now... | |
| I'm drunk today and i'm seldom sober, a handsome rover from town to town. But i'm sick now, my days are numbered, so come ye young men and lay me down... | |
| Says Jack to himself now what can this be, but the finest old Whiskey from far Germany, smuggled up in a basket and sold on the sly... | |
| | Lyrics | Song |
|---|
| Oh well do i remember that bleak December day, the landlord and the sheriff came to drive us all away... | |
| As she wheeled her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow, crying cockles and mussels, alive alive oh... | |
| In 1803 we sailed out to sea, out from the sweet town of Derry. For Australia bound if we didn't all drown, the marks of our fetters we carried... | |
| One morning Tim was rather full, his head felt heavy which made him shake. He fell off the ladder and he broke his skull, then they carried him home his corpse to wake... | |
| They pulled my hair and stole my comb, sure that's alright 'til i go home... | |
| When i was young and in my prime and could wander wild and free, there was always a longing in my mind to follow the call of the sea... | |
| Raised on songs and stories, heroes of reknown, the passing tales and glories that once was Dublin town... | |
| It hurts me to think of the things i left behind, though the famine has blackened the land, for to look now for something that i may never find... | |
| That chainless wave and lovely land, freedom and nationhood demand. Be sure the great god never planned for slumbering slaves our home so grand... | |
| From Bantry Bay to the Derry quay and from Galway to Dublin town, no maid i've seen like the fair cailín that i met in the county Down... | |
| No more he will hear the seagulls cry o'er the murmuring Shannon tide, for he fell beneath that Northern sky brave Hanlon by his side... | |
| One day she went to the doctor some medicine for to find, she said 'will you give me something for to make me old man blind.' | |
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