My irish ass lyrics great big sea
You can sing of all your sport'n hero's like Mr. And in the Tanner's Close in the old Westport, those rottens had their lair And manys a wretch from there was fetched in a box up to Surgeon's Square For ten pounds each was the priced they reached for the contents of every box And they denied folks lives to satisfy knives of anatomist Dr. When Enniscorthy became subject to him Twas then to Wexford we marched our men And on the Three Rock took up our quarters Waiting for daylight the town to win The loyal townsmen gave their assistance We'll die or conquer they all did say The yeomen cavalry made no resistance For on the pavement their corpses lay. Oh, here's good luck to the daughter, Good luck to the Barley mow Jolly good luck to the daughter, Good luck to the Barley mow Oh, the daughter, barrel, etc…. Today Tonight went to Ballinamore sir they were briefed by the Gardai On the video they showed to them the Provos 'atin curry and drinking tea The were all wearin' Russian balaclavas each carried an RPG British scalps around their tummy pockets full of stolen money Sez your man from RTE. Plugin W.
Kiss my irish ass
GREAT BIG SEA KISS MY IRISH ASS LYRICS | JustSomeLyrics
So come all you Navvy's bold do not think that English gold Is just waiting to be taken from each sod For the likes of you and me will never get an OBE Or a knighthood for good service to the hod If the concrete master race were to keep you in your place And a ganger man to kick you to the ground If you ever try to take part of what the bosses make When you're building up and tearing England down. These aren't things that you say aloud. Oh from Musgrave Park to the Crumlin Road and then to an H-Block cell He went straight on the blanket then on hungerstrike as well His will to win they could never break no matter what they tried He fought them every day he lived and he fought them as he died. Mo chara is mo lao thu! I met many Irishmen who fought in WW2 and the record shows that their bravery and contribution was legendary on the field of battle.
Mary Mack (folk song)
Of Meath I've travelled many counties in Ireland But there's still one I'm longing to see That's been part of my homeland And it brings back fond memories to me. And the fiddle's in the closet of some daughter of the town The strings are broke, the bow is gone, and the case is button down But sometime on December nights, when the air is cold and the wind is right There's a melody comes passing through the town. I wrote this song as an experiment.
Chorus: And you know if stand of the Burghead sand All the years be ten times ten You'll aye be a slave to the ocean wave Till your back on the sea once again. Having my songs covered by other acts is always a great buzz and a compliment. I'll sing you a song of a terrible wrong, When the flags they flew at half-mast And a man he lay dead, he'd been riddled with lead He died on the streets of Belfast. They've waged war on the children, the bold Black and Tan. At the time Foster and Allen were selling colossal numbers of singles and albums with this type of lyric, so I thought I'd give it a try and write something in that genre. There were tens of thousands of them who fought and many perished, in many far flung corners of the globe. Patrick unfurled.