[frisco-kid]

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.