Disc 1 | ||||||
---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
1. |
| 2:26 | ||||
Oh, I am a merry ploughboy and I plough the fields all day
Till a sudden thought came to my head, that I should roam away For I'm sick and tired of slavery since the day that I was born And I'm off to join the IRA and I'm off tomorrow morn And we're all off to Dublin in the green, in the green Where the helmets glisten in the sun Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash To the rattle of a Thompson gun I'll leave aside me pick and spade, I'll leave aside me plough I'll leave aside me horse and yoke, I no longer need them now I'll leave aside me Mary, she's the girl that I adore And I wonder if she'll think of me when she'll hear the rifles roar And we're all off to Dublin in the green, in the green Where the helmets glisten in the sun Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash To the rattle of a Thompson gun And when the war is over and dear old Ireland is free I'll take her to the church to wed and a rebel's wife she'll be Well, some men fight for silver and some men fight for gold But the IRA are fighting for the land that the Freestaters stole And we're all off to Dublin in the green, in the green Where the helmets glisten in the sun Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash To the rattle of a Thompson gun |
||||||
2. |
| 2:39 | ||||
3. |
| 4:00 | ||||
4. |
| 1:51 | ||||
Ta Peig agom, ta Cait agom, ach Peig an bean is fearr
'Cbe faer Gheabhfas i nach air a bhfeas anttadh O ghuairm i 's guairim i go deo Si gra mo chroi mo bhurnin i si Peigin Leitirmor Ta iscaraigh na h'iarrthartha in greim an Ghotan mhoie Agus scriothim aisteach is gheobhfam leath-bhod sheoil O ghuairm i 's guairim i go deo Si gra mo chroi mo bhurnin i si Peigin Leitirmor Ta iascaraigh na Gaillimhe ag theacht anall le choir Is solas geallaigh gilte bi go ligadis a shaoil O ghuairm i 's guairim i go deo Si gra mo chroi mo bhurnin i si Peigin Leitirmor Eirigh suas a Pheggy agus sheas ar bharr an ard Choirigh do chuid buillan agus feach an bhfuil siad ann O ghuairm i 's guairim i go deo Si gra mo chroi mo bhurnin i si Peigin Leitirmor O ghuairm i 's guairim i go deo Si gra mo chroi mo bhurnin i si Peigin Leitirmor |
||||||
5. |
| 2:05 | ||||
6. |
| 2:50 | ||||
7. |
| 2:06 | ||||
I'll tell my ma when I get home,
The boys won't leave the girls alone They pull my hair and stole my comb But that's all right till I go home She is handsome, she is pretty, She is the Belle of Belfast city She is a courtin' one, two, three, Please won't you tell me who is she Albert Mooney says he loves her, All the boys are fightin' for her Knock at the door and ring at the bell, Saying oh my true love, are you well Out she comes as white as snow, Rrings on her fingers, bells on her toes Ould Johnny Morrissey says she'll die If she doesn't get the fella with the roving eye Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high And the snow come travellin' through the sky She's as sweet as apple pie, She'll get her own lad by and by When she gets a lad of her own She won't tell her ma when she gets home Let them all come as they will For it's Albert Mooney she loves still |
||||||
8. |
| 3:43 | ||||
9. |
| 3:24 | ||||
As down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I There Armed lines of marching men In squadrons passed me by No fife did hum nor battle drum Did sound it's dread tattoo But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey swell Rang out through the foggy dew Right proudly high over Dublin Town They hung out the flag of war 'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky Than at Sulva or Sud El Bar And from the plains of Royal Meath Strong men came hurrying through While Britannia's Huns, with their long range guns Sailed in through the foggy dew 'Twas Britannia bade our Wild Geese go That small nations might be free But their lonely graves are by Sulva's waves Or the shore of the Great North Sea Oh, had they died by Pearse's side Or fought with Cathal Brugha Their names we will keep where the fenians sleep 'Neath the shroud of the foggy dew But the bravest fell, and the requiem bell Rang mournfully and clear For those who died that Easter tide In the springing of the year And the world did gaze, in deep amaze At those fearless men, but few Who bore the fight that freedom's light Might shine through the foggy dew Oh, back through the glen I rode again And my heart with grief was sore For I parted then with valiant men Whom I never shall see more But to and fro in my dreams I go And I'd kneel and pray for you For slavery fled, O glorious dead When you fell in the foggy dew |
||||||
10. |
| 2:46 | ||||
11. |
| 3:46 | ||||
12. |
| 2:16 | ||||
Fare thee well, my lovely Dinah, a thousand times adieu.
We're goin' away from the Holy Ground and the girls we all love true. We will sail the salt seas over and we'll return for shore, To see again the girls we love and the Holy Ground once more. Fine girl you are! You're the girl I do adore, And still I live in hopes to see the Holy Ground once more. Fine girl you are! And now the storm is raging and we are far from shore; And the good old ship is tossin' about and the rigging is all tore. And the secrets of my mind, my love, you're the girl I do adore, And still I live in hopes to see the Holy Ground once more. Fine girl you are! You're the girl I do adore, And still I live in hopes to see the Holy Ground once more. Fine girl you are! And now the storm is over and we are safe and well We will go into a public house and we'll sit and drink like hell! We will drink strong ale and porter and we'll make the rafters roar, And when our money is all spent, we'll go to sea once more. Fine girl you are! You're the girl I do adore, And still I live in hopes to see the Holy Ground once more. Fine girl you are! |