1. |
At McCarthy's Party
05:54
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ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢:
Oh, if you look at me, a noble man youâll see
the other night I met McCarthy,
coming down our way, he to me did say:
âWonât you come and join our party?
Our house to be sure will be crowded to the doors,
everyone will be gay and hearty.
The Murphyâs, Burkeâs and Daileyâs,
will be there with their sheleighlisâ (where?)
Down at McCarthy's party!"
[ðð¡ðšð«ð®ð¬]
ðð¡, ðð ððððð«ðð¡ð²'ð¬ ð©ðð«ðð², ðð¯ðð«ð²ðšð§ð ð°ðð¬ ð¡ððð«ðð²,
âðð¢ð¥ ð¬ðšðŠððšð§ð ð¡ð¢ð ððð¥ð¥ðšð§ðð² ðšð§ ðð¡ð ð§ðšð¬ð.
ðð¢ðð¡ ðð¡ð ð¡ðð§ðð¥ð ðšð ð ðð«ðšðšðŠ, ððððð«ðð¡ð² ð¬ð°ðð©ð ðð¡ð ð«ðšðšðŠ,
ðð¡ðð§ ð ð«ðšð° ðð«ðšð¬ð ðð¡ðð«ð ð°ðð¬ ð¡ðšð¥ð² ðŠð®ð«ððð«!
ðð®ð«ð©ð¡ð² ðð§ð ð¡ð¢ð¬ ððšð®ð¬ð¢ð§ ð©ðð«ðð¥ð²ð¬ðð ð ð¡ðð¥ð ð ððšð³ðð§,
ðð¡ðð² ð¡ð¢ð ððšðð¡ ð¬ð°ð¢ðð ðð§ð ð¡ðð«ð,
ðð§ð ð ð§ð®ðŠððð« ðšð ðð¡ð ððšð²ð¬ ð°ð¢ð¥ð¥ ð§ðð¯ðð« ðŠðð€ð ð ð§ðšð¢ð¬ð,
âððð®ð¬ð ðð¡ðð²âð«ð ð¥ð²ð¢ð§ð ð¢ð§ ðð¡ð ðšð¥ð ðð¡ð®ð«ðð¡ð²ðð«ð.
Now a lady said sheâd try, if she could pacify.
My! but she was a grand aulâ crature,
roaring in like a bull, she was beautiful,
Madame Peters herself couldnât imitate her!
She opened up her mouth, North, West, East, and South,
for all the world like an alligator.
She couldnât get it shut, so Murphy put his foot (where?!)
Down at McCarthyâs Party!
[ðð¡ðšð«ð®ð¬]
Now the story of the row Iâll tell it to you now:
Burke, you see, was a bit of a dandy...
and Malloney got up, said he was a pup,
told him straight he wasnât worth a candy.
Burke gave a dirty look the frying pan he took,
Malloney big red nose came handy.
He hit him such a wacker, right across the smacker (WHERE?!)
down at McCarthyâs Party!
[ðð¡ðšð«ð®ð¬]
[ðð¡ðð«ð ð°ðð¬ ð ð¡ðšð¥ð² ð*ðð€ð¢ð§ð ðŠð®ð«ððð« (ð
*ððððð ðððððð!!!)]
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2. |
Foggy Dew
05:29
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ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢:
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 pipe did hum
No battle drum did sound its loud tattoo
But the Angelus Bells o'er the Liffey swells
Rang out in the foggy dew
Right proudly high in Dublin town
Hung they out a flag of war
'Twas better to die 'neath that Irish sky
Than at Sulva or Sud-El-Bar
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through
While Brittania's Huns with their long range guns
Sailed in through the foggy dew
Their bravest fell and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide in the
Springing of the year
While the world did gaze with deep amaze
At those fearless men but few
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew
And 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 n'more
But to and fro in my dreams I go
And I kneel and pray for you
For slavery fled, O glorious dead
When you fell in the foggy dew
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3. |
P. stands for Paddy
03:54
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ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢:
As I walked out on a May morning For to take a pleasant walk, I sat me down by an old mold tree For to hear two lovers talk.
For to hear what they might say, my dear, For to hear what they might say So I might know a little more about love before I go away
[ðð¡ðšð«ð®ð¬]
ðð»ð± ð£ ð¶ð ððð®ð»ð±ð ð³ðŒð¿ ð£ð®ð±ð±ð, ð ðððœðœðŒðð²
ðð»ð± ð ð³ðŒð¿ ðºð ð¹ðŒðð² ððŒðµð»,
ðª ððð®ð»ð±ð ð³ðŒð¿ ððµð² ð³ð®ð¹ðð² ðªð¶ð¹ð¹ðâð¢
ððð ððŒðµð»ð»ð ð¶ð ððµð² ð³ð®ð¶ð¿ð²ðð ðŒð»ð²
ð¢ðµ ððŒðµð»ð»ð ð¶ð ððµð² ð³ð®ð¶ð¿ð²ðð ðŒð»ð², ððµð² ðð®ð¶ð±
ð¢ðµ, ððŒðµð»ð»ð ð¶ð ððµð² ð³ð®ð¶ð¿ð²ðð ðŒð»ð².
ðð»ð± ð ð±ðŒð»âð ð°ð®ð¿ð² ððµð®ð ð®ð»ðð¯ðŒð±ð ðð®ðð,
ððŒð¿ ððŒðµð»ð»ð ð¶ð ððµð² ð³ð®ð¶ð¿ð²ðð ðŒð»ð².
« Come and sit you down on the grass » she said
« Together on the green,
Itâs a long three quarters of the year or more
Since together we have been.
Since together we have been » she said
« Since together we have been
Itâs a long three quarters of the year or more
Since together we have beenâ
[ðð¡ðšð«ð®ð¬]
âNo, I wonât sit with you,â she said
« Nor be a lover of thine,
For I hear youâre in love with another pretty girl,
And your heartâs no longer mine.
And your heartâs no longer mine », she said
No your heartâs no longer mine.
For I hear youâre in love with another pretty girl
And your heartâs no longer mine.â
[ðð¡ðšð«ð®ð¬] x2
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4. |
Sonny's Trip
05:21
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5. |
Are Ye Sleeping Maggie
02:53
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ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢:
Dark and rainy is the night,
There's no a star in a' the carry;
Lightnings gleam athwart the lift,
And the cauld winds drive wi' winter's fury.
[ðð¡ðšð«ð®ð¬]
ð¢! ð®ð¿ð² ðð² ðð¹ð²ð²ðœð¶ð»', ð ð®ðŽðŽð¶ð²?
ð¢! ð®ð¿ð² ðð² ðð¹ð²ð²ðœð¶ð»', ð ð®ðŽðŽð¶ð²?
ðð²ð ðºð² ð¶ð», ð³ðŒð¿ ð¹ðŒðð± ððµð² ð¹ð¶ð»ð»
ðð ð¿ðŒð®ð¿ð¶ð»' ðŒ'ð²ð¿ ððµð² ðð®ð¿ð¹ðŒð°ðž ð°ð¿ð®ð¶ðŽð¶ð²!
Fearfu' soughs the boortree bank,
The rifted wood roars wild and drearie,
Loud the iron yett does clank,
And the cry o' howlets makes me eerie.
[ðð¡ðšð«ð®ð¬]
Aboon my breath I daurna speak
For fear I rouse your waukrife daddie;
Cauld's the blast upon my cheek, -
Arise, arise, my bonnie lady!
[ðð¡ðšð«ð®ð¬]
She op'd the door, she let him in;
He coost aside his dreepin' plaidie;
Blaw your warst, ye rain and win',
Since, Maggie, now I'm in aside ye.
ð¡ðŒð ðð¶ð»ð°ð² ðð²'ð¿ð² ðð®ððžð¶ð»', ð ð®ðŽðŽð¶ð²,
ð¡ðŒð ðð¶ð»ð°ð² ðð²'ð¿ð² ðð®ððžð¶ð»', ð ð®ðŽðŽð¶ð²,
ðªðµð®ð ð°ð®ð¿ð² ð ð³ðŒð¿ ðµðŒðð¹ð²ð'ð ð°ð¿ð,
ððŒð¿ ð¯ðŒðŒð¿ðð¿ð²ð² ð¯ð®ð»ðž, ðŒð¿ ðð®ð¿ð¹ðŒð°ðž ð°ð¿ð®ð¶ðŽð¶ð²?
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6. |
Back Home in Derry
06:13
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ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢ðÍ¢:
In 1803 we sailed out to sea
Out from the sweet town of Derry
For Australia bound if we didn't all drown
And the marks of our fetters we carried
In our rusty iron chains we sighed for our wains
Our good wives we left in sorrow
As the mainsails unfurled, our curses we hurled
On the English and thoughts of tomorrow
ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð ðð¶ððµ ð ðð®ð ð¯ð®ð°ðž ðµðŒðºð² ð¶ð» ðð²ð¿ð¿ð
ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð ðð¶ððµ ð ðð®ð ð¯ð®ð°ðž ðµðŒðºð² ð¶ð» ðð²ð¿ð¿ð
At the mouth of the Foyle, bid farewell to the soil
As down below decks we were lying
O'Doherty screamed, woken out of a dream
By a vision of bold Robert dying
The sun burned cruel as we dished out the gruel
Dan O'Connor was down with a fever
Sixty rebels today/bound for Botany Bay
How many will reach their receiver
ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð ðð¶ððµ ð ðð®ð ð¯ð®ð°ðž ðµðŒðºð² ð¶ð» ðð²ð¿ð¿ð
ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð ðð¶ððµ ð ðð®ð ð¯ð®ð°ðž ðµðŒðºð² ð¶ð» ðð²ð¿ð¿ð
I cursed them to hell as her bow fought the swell
Our ship danced like a moth in the firelight
White horses rode high as the devil passed by
Taking souls to Hades by twilight
Five weeks out to sea, we were now forty-three
We buried our comrades each morning
In our own slime we were lost in a time
End(e)less night without dawning
ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð ðð¶ððµ ð ðð®ð ð¯ð®ð°ðž ðµðŒðºð² ð¶ð» ðð²ð¿ð¿ð
ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð ðð¶ððµ ð ðð®ð ð¯ð®ð°ðž ðµðŒðºð² ð¶ð» ðð²ð¿ð¿ð
ððð ðµð©ðªð¯ðšðŽ ð®ð¶ðŽðµ ð€ð°ð®ðŠ ðµð° ð±ð¢ðŽðŽ ð¢ðŽ ð°ð¯ðŠ
ðð° ð©ð°ð±ðŠ ðŽð©ð°ð¶ðð¥ ð¯ðŠð·ðŠð³ ð¥ðªðŠ
ðð©ðŠð³ðŠ ðªðŽ ð¯ð° ð©ðŠðªðšð©ðµ ð°ð³ ð£ðð°ð°ð¥ðº ð®ðªðšð©ðµ
ðð©ð¢ðµ ð¢ ð§ð³ðŠðŠð®ð¢ð¯ ð€ð¢ð¯'ðµ ð¥ðŠð§ðº.
ðð©ðŠð³ðŠ ðªðŽ ð¯ð° ðŽð°ð¶ð³ð€ðŠ ð°ð³ ð§ð°ð³ðŠðªðšð¯ ð§ð°ð³ð€ðŠ
ðð¢ð¯ ð£ð³ðŠð¢ð¬ ð°ð¯ðŠ ð®ð¢ð¯ ðžð©ð° ð¬ð¯ð°ðžðŽ,
ðµð©ð¢ðµ ð©ðªðŽ ð§ð³ðŠðŠ ðžðªðð ð¯ð°ðµð©ðªð¯ðš ð€ð¢ð¯ ð¬ðªðð
ðð¯ð¥ ð§ð³ð°ð® ðµð©ð¢ðµ ð§ð³ðŠðŠð¥ð°ð® ðšð³ð°ðžðŽ
Van Diemen's land is a hell for a man
To live out his whole life in slavery
Where the climate is raw and the gun makes the law
Neither wind nor rain care for bravery
Twenty years have gone by, and I've ended me bond
My comraaades ghosts walk behind me
A rebel I came and Iâll die just the same
On a cold winterâs night you will find me
ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð ðð¶ððµ ð ðð®ð ð¯ð®ð°ðž ðµðŒðºð² ð¶ð» ðð²ð¿ð¿ð
ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð ðð¶ððµ ð ðð®ð ð¯ð®ð°ðž ðµðŒðºð² ð¶ð» ðð²ð¿ð¿ð
ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð ðð¶ððµ ð ðð®ð ð¯ð®ð°ðž ðµðŒðºð² ð¶ð» ðð²ð¿ð¿ð
ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð¢ðµ ð ðð¶ððµ ð ðð®ð ð¯ð®ð°ðž ðµðŒðºð² ð¶ð» ðð²ð¿ð¿ð
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