frisco-kid
05-07-2005, 10:30 PM
Here's you boys, now take my advice;
To America I'll have yous not be comin'.
There's nothing here but war where the murderin' cannons roar,
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin.
Well, it's by the hush me boys and sure that's to hold your noise
And listen to poor Paddy's sad narration.
I was by hunger pressed and in poverty distressed,
So I took a thought I'd leave the Irish nation.
Well, I sold me horse and cow, my little pigs and sow;
My little plot of land I soon did part with.
And me sweetheart Biddy McGee I'm afraid I'll never see,
For I left her there that mornin' broken hearted.
Well, myself and a hundred more to America sailed o'er;
Our fortunes to be made we were thinkin'.
When we got to Yankee Land, they shoved a gun into our hands;
Sayin', "Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln."
General Meagher to us he said, "If you get shot or lose your leg,
Every mother's son of yous will get a pension."
Well, myself I lost a leg, and they gave me a wooden peg,
And by God this is the truth I mention.
Here's you boys, now take my advice,
To America I'll have yous not be comin'.
There is nothin' here but war where the murderin' cannons roar,
And I wish I was back at home in dear old Dublin.
Traditional Irish folk song,
Lyricist Unknown
I have a large collection of Irish, and some Scottish and English, folk music. I grew up on this stuff and have loved it all my life. Listening to a country's folk music is often a mini history lesson. While listening to some, this song came up. Thought I'd share the story it tells.
To America I'll have yous not be comin'.
There's nothing here but war where the murderin' cannons roar,
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin.
Well, it's by the hush me boys and sure that's to hold your noise
And listen to poor Paddy's sad narration.
I was by hunger pressed and in poverty distressed,
So I took a thought I'd leave the Irish nation.
Well, I sold me horse and cow, my little pigs and sow;
My little plot of land I soon did part with.
And me sweetheart Biddy McGee I'm afraid I'll never see,
For I left her there that mornin' broken hearted.
Well, myself and a hundred more to America sailed o'er;
Our fortunes to be made we were thinkin'.
When we got to Yankee Land, they shoved a gun into our hands;
Sayin', "Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln."
General Meagher to us he said, "If you get shot or lose your leg,
Every mother's son of yous will get a pension."
Well, myself I lost a leg, and they gave me a wooden peg,
And by God this is the truth I mention.
Here's you boys, now take my advice,
To America I'll have yous not be comin'.
There is nothin' here but war where the murderin' cannons roar,
And I wish I was back at home in dear old Dublin.
Traditional Irish folk song,
Lyricist Unknown
I have a large collection of Irish, and some Scottish and English, folk music. I grew up on this stuff and have loved it all my life. Listening to a country's folk music is often a mini history lesson. While listening to some, this song came up. Thought I'd share the story it tells.