I’ve been a wild rover for many’s the year and I’ve spent all my money on whiskey and beer. But now I’m returning with gold in great store and I never will play the wild rover no more Chorus: And it’s no, nay, never, no, nay, never, no more will I play the wild rover no, never, no more I went into an ale-house I used to frequent and I told the landlady my money was spent. I asked her for credit, she answered me nay, Such “a custom like yours I can have any day Chorus I took from my pocket ten sovereigns bright and the landlady’s eyes opened wide with delight. She said I’d have whiskey and wines of the best and the words that she told me were only in jest. Chorus I’ll go home to my parents, confess what I’ve done, and I’ll ask them to pardon their prodigal son. And when they’ve caressed me as oft’ times before then I never will play the wild rover no more Chorus...Read More
As I Walked by the dockside one evening so fair To view the salt waters and take in the salt air I heard an old fisherman singing a song Oh, take me away boys me time is not long Wrap me up in me oilskin and Jumber No more on the docks I’ll be seen Just tell me old shipmates, I’m taking a trip mates And I’ll see you someday on Fiddlers Green Now Fiddler’s Green is a place I’ve heard tell Where the fishermen go if they don’t go to hell Where the weather is all clear and the dolphins do play And the cold coast of Greenland is far, far away Now when you’re in dock and the long trip is through There’s pubs and there’s clubs and there’s lassies there too And the girls are all pretty and the beer is all free And there’s bottles of rum growing on every tree. Where the skies are all clear and there’s never a gail And the fish jump on board with one swish on their tail Where you lie at your leisure, there’s no work to do And the skipper’s below making tea for the crew Now I don’t want a harp nor a halo, not me Just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea I’ll play me old squeeze-box as we sail along With...Read More
In Dublin’s fair city, Where the girls are so pretty, I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone, As she wheeled her wheel barrow, Through streets broad and narrow, Crying cockles and mussels, alive alive O! Chorus: Alive alive O! Alive alive O! Crying cockles and mussels, Alive alive O! She was a fish monger, And sure ’twas no wonder, For so were her father and mother before, And they both wheeled their barrows, Through the streets broad and narrow, Crying cockles and mussels, alive alive O! She died of a fever, And no one could save her, And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone, Now her ghost wheels her barrow, Through the streets broad and narrow, Crying cockles and mussels, alive alive...Read More
I remember the night that he came in from the wintery cold and damp A giant of a man in an oilskin coat, and a bundle that told he was a tramp He stood at the bar and he called a pint, then turned and gazed at the fire On a night like this, to be save and dry is my one and only desire So here’s to those that are dead and gone, the friends that I loved dear And here’s to you and I’ll bid you adieu, sayin’ “Donegal Danny’s been here, me boys, Donegal Danny’s been here” Then in a voice that was hushed and low he said “Listen, I’ll tell you a tale” How a man of the sea became a man of the road and never more will set sail I fished out of Howth and Killybegs, Ardglass and Baltimore But the cruel sea has beat’n me and I’ll end my days on the shore So here’s to those that are dead and gone, the friends that I loved dear And here’s to you and I’ll bid you adieu, sayin’ “Donegal Danny’s been here, me boys, Donegal Danny’s been here” One fateful night in the wind and the rain we set sail from Killybegs town There were five of us from sweet Donegal and one from County Down We were fishermen who worked the...Read More
(Spoken:) ‘Twas in the year of ‘thirty-nine,When the sky was full of lead When Hitler was heading for Poland and Paddy, for Holyhead. Come all you pincher laddies and you long-distance men Don’t ever work for McAlpine for Wimpey, or John Laing You’ll stand behind a mixer until your skin is turned to tan And they’ll say, Good on you, Paddy with your boat-fare in your hand. Oh, the craic was good in Cricklewood and they wouldn’t leave the Crown With glasses flying and Biddys crying ‘Cause Paddy was going to town. Oh mother dear, I’m over here and I’m never coming back What keeps me here is the reek o’ beer the ladies and the craic. I come from county Kerry the land of eggs and bacon And if you think I’ll eat your fish ‘n’ chips then you’re sadly mistaken. As down the Glen came Mcalpine’s men with their shovels slung behind them. It was in the pub that they drank their sub or down in the spike you’ll find them. We sweated blood and we washed down mud with quarts and pints of beer. But now we’re on the road again with McAlpines Fusiliers. I stripped to the skin with Darky Finn down upon the Isle of Grain, With Horseface Toole I learned the rule, no money if you stop for rain. For McAlpine’s god is...Read More
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