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1. |
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Recruiting Sergeant
As I was walking down the road
And feeling fine and larky oh
A recruiting sergeant came to me
Said, you'd look fine in khaki oh
For the King he is in need of men
Come read this proclamation oh
A life in Flanders for you then
Would be a fine vacation oh
That may be so says I to him
But sergeant tell me dearie-oh
If I had a pack upon my back
Would I look fine and cheerie oh
For they have you train and drill until
They have you with the Frenchies oh
It may be warm in Flanders
But it's draughty in the trenches oh
The sergeant smiled and winked his eye
His smile was most provoking oh
He twiddled and twirled his wee mustache
And said, I know you're joking oh
For the sandbags are so warm and high
The wind you won't feel blowing oh
I winked at a cailin passing by
Says I, what if it's snowing oh
Come rain or hail or wind or snow
I'm not going out to Flanders oh
There's fighting in Dublin to be done
Let your sergeants and your commanders go
Let Englishmen fight English wars
It's nearly time they started oh
I bid the sergeant a very good night
And there and then we parted oh
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2. |
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It's in the evening after dark
when the blackleg miner creeps to work,
With his moleskin pants and dirty shirt,
There goes the blackleg miner.
Well, he grabs his duds and down he goes,
To hew the coal that lies below,
There's only one woman in this town row
Who will even look at the blackleg miner.
Cheeks as red as a blooming rose
And eyes are the prettiest brown
She's the darling of my heart
Sweetest little girl in town
Oh, Delaval is a terrible place,
They rub wet clay in the blackleg's face,
And around the heaps they run a footrace
to catch the blackleg miner.
And even down near the Seghill mine,
Across the way they stretch a line
To catch the throat, to break the spine
of the dirty blackleg miner.
They grabbed his duds, his picks as well,
And they hoy them down the pit of hell,
Down you go, we pay you well,
You dirty blackleg miner.
When I was a little boy
I wanted a Bowie knife
And now I want little Shady Grove
To say she'll be my wife
Shady Grove instrumental
It's in the evening after dark
that the blackleg miner creeps to work,
With his moleskin pants and dirty shirt,
There goes the blackleg miner.
So join the union while you may,
Don't wait 'til your dying day
For that may not be far away......
You dirty blackleg miner.
Shady Grove, my little love
Shady Grove I say
Shady Grove, my little love
I'm bound to go away
It's in the evening after dark
that the blackleg miner creeps to work,
With his moleskin pants and dirty shirt,
There goes the blackleg miner.
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3. |
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It was down the glen one Easter morn to a city fair rode I
When an armed line of marching men in squadrons passed me by
No pipe did hum, nor battle drum did sound its loud tattoo
But the Angelus Bell o'er the Liffey's swell rang out in the foggy dew
Right proudly high over Dublin Town they hung out the flag of war
It was better to die 'neath an Irish sky than at Suvla or Sud-El-Bar
And from the plains of Royal Meath brave men came hurrying through
While Britannia's Huns, with their great big guns sailed in through the foggy dew
Oh the night fell black, and the rifles' crack made perfidious Albion reel
In the leaden rain, seven tongues of flame did shine o'er the lines of steel
By each shining blade a prayer was said, that to Ireland her sons be true
And when morning broke, the war flag shook out its folds in the foggy dew
Oh the bravest fell, and the solemn bell rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide in the spring time 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
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 more
But to and fro in my dreams I go and I sing and I think of you,
For slavery fled, both living and dead, when you fell in the foggy dew.
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4. |
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Instrumental
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5. |
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Instrumental
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6. |
Paddy's Lament
04:15
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Well it's by the hush, me boys, be sure 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
Here's to you boys, take my advice
To America I suggest you don't go
They do nothing but make war, where the murderin' cannons roar
And I wish I was back home in dear old Dublin
Well I sold my horse and plow, my little pigs and sow
My little plot of land I did part with
And my sweetheart Bid McGee, I'm afraid I'll never see
For I left her there that morning 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 put a gun into our hands
Saying "Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln"
Here's to you boys, take my advice
To America I suggest you don't go
They do nothing but make war, where the murderin' cannons roar
And I wish I was back home in dear old Dublin
General Meagher he said, if you get shot or lose your head
Every one of you will get a pension
Well myself I lost a leg, they gave me a wooden peg,
And by God this is the truth to you I mention
Well I consider myself in luck, if I get paid a sinlge buck
While Ireland is the country I delight in
To the devil, I do say, it's curse Americay
For I'm sick to death of all of your hard fighting'
Here's to you boys, take my advice
To America I suggest you don't go
They do nothing but make war, where the murderin' cannons roar
And I wish I was back home in dear old Dublin
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7. |
Montreal
04:12
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She seems to know
She often really knows
In laughter and in sadness
And in everything je ne sais quoi
She hears this man
Saying everything backwards
Like weakness is a strength
Through hate comes love now that's je ne sais quoi
To the wind three sheets and all
All the way to Montreal
North to Montreal
Il contredit
He lives two lives at once
When alone he sees the universe
With others it's je ne sais quoi
To the wind three sheets and all
All the way to Montreal
North to Montreal
Snow and rain and hail will fall
All the way to Montreal
North to Montreal
He says impenetrable
Means knock down all the walls
Surrender means you win
Through death comes life c'mon je ne sais quoi
She seems to know
She always seems to know
In laughter and in sadness
And every time he says…je ne sais quoi
To the wind three sheets and all
All the way to Montreal
North to Montreal
Snow and rain and hail will fall
All the way to Montreal
North to Montreal
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8. |
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Instrumental
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The Kissers Madison, Wisconsin
The Kissers bring a fresh, original kick to Celtic music. Forged during legendary Monday nights at Madison's O’Cayz Corral, and honed through 1000 nights on the road, their sound blends sharp musicianship, black humor and the lilt and lyricism of the ancient melodies. Rock musicians who learned Irish music, The Kissers explore the roots of that tradition while retaining their own unique essence. ... more
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