Song Lyrics
BORN BEYOND THE BORDER
(Maggie Innes/Gordon Menzies)
Some set sail for Africa with bibles in their hands
Some were forced to the Colonies to build a new Heartland
Even those on the work of the Lord could scarce forbear to weep
But the bitterest tears were shed by those who made way for the sheep
Chorus:
Though we're born beyond the border don't say we don't belong
We've a legacy of Bruce and Wallace too
We're the children of the Clearances the wanderers old and young
And the heart and soul of Scotland just like you
The names, the songs, the stories and the measure of their loss
Formed lullabies for children born beneath the Southern Cross
All across the mighty Rockies to the wide Pacific shore
The names of home, old towns reborn, spring into life once more
Chorus:
Though we're born beyond the border don't say we don't belong
We've a legacy of Bruce and Wallace too
We're the children of the Clearances the wanderers old and young
And the heart and soul of Scotland just like you
So when you sing of the Great White Sheep this you must also know
While Scotland mourns her tragedy it was us that had to go
In exile now far away from the land of their Race's birth
We're a living flag of Andrew scattered all across the Earth
Chorus:
Though we're born beyond the border don't say we don't belong
We've a legacy of Bruce and Wallace too
We're the children of the Clearances the wanderers old and young
And the heart and soul of Scotland just like you
BOTTLE O' THE BEST
(Words: Jack Foley; Tune: trad.)
When your time o' work is done, and ye've earned yersel' some fun
In the pub ye start tae sup, ye're drinkin', clinkin' every cup
And the pint pots ye're preusin', and ye're boozin' till ye're snoozin'
And ye're losin' a' yer senses tae the drink.
But when a' these folks sae prim are swiggin' swill up tae the brim
Nips o' gin and numbered Pimms wi' sugar rubbed aroon the rim
Let them drink until they drop, for the sly, besotted Scot
He'll be breakin' oot a bottle o' the best.
Aye, tae hell wi' a' the rest, give me a bottle o' the best
The amber bead I'll down wi' speed; it's no bad taste or waste, just greed
And a whisky still I'll kill, I'll drink my fill and if I spill a gill
You know I will, I'll lick it off the floor.
I'll not touch Teachers, Grants nor Haig, gie me Bowmore or Laphroaig,
Glenfarclas in a glass, well ye can throw the top away
For there's no use tae pretend that ye'll need the top again
When ye've broken oot a bottle o' the best.
And the English like their ale warm and flat, straight oot the pail
They aye slitter wi' their bitter; it would slaughter Jack the Ripper,
And they sip their cider rough, they huff and puff and sniff and snuff,
And as if that's no' enough, they start tae sing.
When Jones' Ale Was new, or John Barleycorn's fine brew
Fathom the Bowl, the Barley Mow, Bring us a Barrel, just a few
But their songs are far surpassed by the tinkle in the glass
When you've broken oot a bottle of the best.
And the Irish, wi' their Pride o' Erin, think they can deride
Oor golden watter wi' their patter when they're oot upon the batter,
Sixteen hundred pints o' stout, a drinkin' bout wi' oot a doubt
And if they've no' got the gout they start tae dance.
Father O'Flynn and Larry O'Gaff, Biddy the Bowlwife, for a laugh
The Young May Moon, the Garry Owen, the Blackbird drives them daft
But their jigs have no appeal tae a Scot who likes tae reel
When he's broken oot a bottle o' the best.
Aye, a bottle o' the best, that's what it is, nae idle jest
Nae Mickey Finn, nae rotgut gin, nae bathtub wine that tastes like Vim
Have no fear, it's not like beer; malt whisky's strong and bright and clear
And it's also bloody dear, but what the hell.
And it belts ye in the belly like a heavyweight Lochgelly
A glow begins tae grow six in a row turns ye tae jelly
Then ye dream, perchance tae sleep, but ye fall down in a heap
For ye've broken out a bottle of the best.
BOUND TO AUSTRALIA—Capstan Shanty
I'm leaving old England, the land that I love
And I'm bound far across the sea
Oh, I'm bound for Australia, the land of the free
Where there'll be a welcome for me
Chorus:
So fill up yer glasses an' drink what ye please
For whatever the damage I'll pay
So be aisy an' free, whilst yer drinkin' wid me
Sure I'm a man you don't meet every day!
When I board me ship for the south'ard to go
She'll be lookin' so trim an' so fine
And I'll land me aboard, with me bags and me stores
From the dockside they'll cast off each line
To Land's End we'll tow, with our boys all so tight
Wave a hearty goodbye to the shore
And we'll drink the last drop to our country's green land
And the next day we'll curse our sore heads
We'll then drop the tug, and sheet tops'ls home taut
And the hands will crowd sail upon sail
With a sou'wester strong, boys, we'll just tack along
By the morn many jibs will turn pale
We'll beat past the Ushant and then down the Bay
Where the west wind it blows fine an' strong
We'll soon get the Trades and we should make good time
To the south'ard then we'll roll along
Round the Cape we will roll, take our flyin' kites in
For the Forties will sure roar their best
And then run our Eastin' with yards all set square
With the wind roaring out of the west
We'll then pass Cape Looin all shipshape and trim
Then head up for Adelaide Port
Off Semaphore roads we will there drop our hook
And ashore, boys, we'll head for some sport
When I've worked in Australia for twenty long years
One day will I head homeward bound
With a nice little fortune tucked under me wing
By a steamship I'll travel I'm bound
So 'tis goodbye to Sally and goodbye to Sue
When I'm leavin' Australia so free
Where the gals are so kind, but the one left behind
Is the one that will one day splice me
THE BOYS FROM THE COUNTY CORK
Chorus:
We'll meet the boys from Kerry; we'll meet the boys from Clare
From Dublin, Wicklow, Donnegal and the boys from old Kildare
Some came from the land beyond the sea, from Boston and New York
But the boys who beat the Black and Tans were the boys from the County Cork
You've read in the history's pages the heroes of great fame
The deeds they've done, the battles won and how they won their fame
But the boys who made the history for the Orange, White and Green
Were the boys who died in Dublin town in Nineteen Sixteen
Chorus
Praise the brave battalions who fought the Black and Tans
From Liffey, Noor and Shannon, from Lagan Suir and Bann
Our honor to those volunteers who for duty did report
Yet the best of all the soldiers were the lads of the County Cork
Chorus
Now Cork gave us McSweeny a martyr who did die
And Wicklow gave us Michael Dwyer in the days so long gone by
And Dublin gave us Padric Pearse, McBride and Cathal Brutha
And America gave us DeValera to lead old Ireland through
Chorus
Rifles and revolvers were all that we possessed
A stick or two of gelignite for arms we were hard pressed
Yet we used them gamely 'gainst all that they did sport
And none had so much bravery as the Boys of the County Cork
Chorus
Chorus
THE BOYS FROM THE COUNTY HELL
(Shane McGowan)
On the first day of March it was raining
It was raining worse than anything that I have ever seen
I drank ten pints of beer and I cursed all the people there
And I wish that all this raining would stop falling down on me
Chorus:
And it's lend me ten pounds, I'll buy you a drink
And mother wake me early in the morning
At the time I was working for a landlord
And he was the meanest bastard that you have ever seen
And to lose a single penny would grieve him awful sore
And he was a miserable bollocks and a bitch's bastard's whore
Chorus
I recall we took care of him one Sunday
We got him out the back and we broke his fucking balls
And maybe that was dreaming and maybe that was real
But all I know is I left that place without a penny or fuck all
Chorus
But now I've the most charming of verandahs
I sit and watch the junkies, the drunks, the pimps, the whores
Five green bottles sitting on the floor
I wish to Christ, I wish to Christ That I had fifteen more
Chorus
The boys and me are drunk and looking for you
We'll eat your frigging entrails and we won't give a damn
Me daddy was a blue shirt and my mother a madam
And my brother earned his medals at Mai Lei in Vietnam
Chorus
On the first day of March it was raining
It was raining worse than anything that I have ever seen
Stay on the other side of the road 'Cause you can never tell
We've a thirst like a gang of devils; we're the boys from the county hell
Chorus:
And it's lend me ten pounds, I'll buy you a drink
And mother wake me early in the morning
Yes mother wake me early in the morning
Mother wake me early in the mornin'
THE BOYS OF FAIRHILL
(words: Séan O'Callaghan)
Come on boys and you'll see lads and lassies in their glee
Evergreen bowers would make your heart thrill
The boys the will not harm you, the girls they will all charm you
Here's up them all, sez the boys of Fairhill
Come on boys and have a drink of Fahy's Well spring water
If you feel dry you are welcome there still
It's better than the Beamish's or J.J. Murphy's porter
That has been proved by the boys of Fairhill
Come on boys round by Gurranabraher there you'll see the fields so green
When the sun shines in splendor and the lark sweetly sings
Thousands cross the briny foam just to kiss the Blarney Stone
You can view it alone from the groves of Fairhill
Come on boys and have a day with our hurling team so gay
The crack of the ash it would make your heart thrill
Talk about the Kerry Pike let them all come if they like
They're bound to be knocked out by the boys of Fairhill
Come on boys and have a day with our Harrier Club so gay
Around the Croppy Boy and the old road called the Cill
Where many a bloody Black and Tan and their treacherous Saxon clan
Were all laid low by the boys of Fairhill
Come on boys and spend the day with our bowling Club so gay
The loft of the bowl it would make your heart thrill
When you hear the Shea boy say, 'Timmy Delaney won today'
We beat them all, sez the boys of Fairhill
Come boys out to our club and from that, to Quinlan's Pub
Where rounds and gallons of porter does flow
We'll drink a health to Dashwood's race as we tap the half o' tierce
'That's good stuff to give 'em,' sez the boys of Fairhill
Note: There are two version of this song in my songbook. The first is the original as collected and recorded by (on his last live recording—Uncorked 1997) Jimmy Crowley of Cork. The second contains more contemporary and, according to Jimmy, more vulgar verses—which he has "scuttled".
THE BOYS OF FAIRHILL [2]
(orignal words: Séan O'Callaghan; new words: Anon)
Come on boys and you'll see, lads and lassies full of glee
Famous for all they will make your heart thrill
The boys they will not harm you, the girls they all will charm you
Here's up them all, sez the boys of Fairhill
Come on boys and spend the day with our Harrier Club so gay
The loft of the ball it will make your heart thrill
When you hear the Shea boy say, 'Timmy Delaney won today'
Here's up them all, sez the boys of Fairhill
Now come on up to Fahy's Well for a pint of pure spring water
The grandest place of all, sure the angels do sing
Thousands come from o'er the foam, just to see the Blarney Stone
Which can be viewed from the groves of Fairhill
Come on down to Quinlan's Pub, that is where you'll join our club
Where rounds and gallons of porter does flow
First we'll tap the half a tierce and drink a health to Dashwood's rule
'That's good stuff to give 'em,' sez the boys of Fairhill
Now the stink on Patrick's Bridge is wicked, how does Father Matthew stick it
Here's up them all, sez the boys of Fairhill
Shandon Steeple stands up straight, the river Lee flows underneath
Here's up them all, sez the boys of Fairhill
Katty Barry sells crubeens, fairly bursting at the seams
Here's up them all, sez the boys of Fairhill
Christy ring he hooked the ball, we hooked Christy ball and all
Here's up them all, sez the boys of Fairhill
In Blackrock now, there is no law and the next Lord Mayor is Andy Gaw
Here's up them all, sez the boys of Fairhill
The Rockies thought that they were stars, till they met with St. Finbar's
Here's up them all, sez the boys of Fairhill
Blackpool girls are very rude; they go swimming in the nude
Here's up them all, sez the boys of Fairhill
But the Blackpool girls are grand and tall, up against the Sunbeam Wall
Here's up them all, sez the boys of Fairhill
Recordings include: The Wolfe Tones' "Till Ireland A Nation" 1974; Live alive-oh!; 1980
THE BOYS OF KILMICHAEL
While we honor in song and in story the memory of Pearse and McBride
Whose names are illumined in the glory by martyrs who long have since died
Forget not the boys of Kilmichael, who feared not the might of the foe
The day that they marched into battle, they laid all the Black and Tans low
Chorus:
So forget not the boys of Kilmichael,
Those brave lads so gallant and true
They fought neath the green flag of Erin
And conquered the red, white and blue
On the 28th day of November the Tans they were leaving Macroom
There were seated in two Crossly tenders that was bringing them straight to their doom
They were all on the road to Kilmichael and never expecting to stop
They there met the boys of the column who made a clean sweep of the lot
Chorus
The sun in the west it was sinking, 'twas the eve of a cold winter's day
When the Tans we were eagerly waiting, sailed into the spot where we lay
And over the hill came the echo, the peel of the rifle and gun
And the flames from the lorries brought tidings that the boys of Kilmichael had won
Chorus
The battle being over at twilight and there in the glen so obscure
We threw down our rifles and bayonets and made our way back to Glenure
And high over Dunmanaway town, me boys they sang of the brave and the true
Our banners in triumph were waving to show that tans had gone down
The men of Tom Barry's bold column and conquered the red, white and blue
Chorus
There are some who will blush at the mention of Connolly, Pearse and McBride
And history's new scribes in derision the pages of valor deny
But here's to the boys who cried, freedom! When Ireland was nailed to the mast
They fought with Tom Barry's bold column to give us our freedom at last
Chorus
THE BOYS OF TANDRAGEE
(Colum Sands)
Good luck to you all, now barring the cat that sits in the corner a-smelling the rat
I wish you philandering girls would behave and saving your presence, I'll chat you a stave
I come from the land where the praties grow big and the girls nice and handy can dance a fine jig
The boys they would charm your hearts for to see they're rare and fine fellows round Tandragee
Chorus:
So here's to the boys who are happy and gay
Singing and dancing and tearing away
Rollick some, frolicsome, frisky and free
We're the rollicking boys around Tandragee
No doubt you have hear of Kilarney I'm sure and sweet Inishowen for the drop of the pure
Dublin's the place for the Strawberry Beds and Donnybrook fair for the cracking of heads
Have you ever seen an Irishman dance a poltog now he faces his partner and turns up his brogue
Shakes at the buckle and bends at the knee they're wonderful dancers round Tandragee
Chorus
The oul' jaunting-car is an elegant joult and Derry's the place that is famed for the hoult
Among the green bushes that grow in Tyrone and the County Fermanagh for muscle and bone
But for feasting and blarney and fun at the fair there's none to compare with the Rakes of Kildare
Old Ireland's my country the gem of the sea but the gem of ould Ireland is Tandragee
Chorus
And where is the man either Christian or Turk could equal the bold Robert Emmett or Burke
And where is the lawyer could speak up like Dan there's divil another bad luck to the one
And where is the singer could sing like Tom Moore whose melodies charm every care from your door
We'll beat them all yet boys and that you will see the raring fine fellas round Tandragee
Chorus
THE BOYS OF THE OLD BRIGADE
(Paddy McGuigan)
Oh father, why are you so sad,
On this bright Easter morn?
When Irishmen are proud and glad
Of the land where they were born."
"Oh, son, I see sad memories view
Of far-off distant days,
When, being just a boy like you,
I joined the old brigade.
Chorus:
Where are the lads who stood with me
When history was made?
Oh, gra mo chree I long to see
The Boys of the Old Brigade.
In hills and farms the call to arms
Was heard by one and all,
And from the glens came brave young men
To answer Ireland's call.
'Twas long ago we faced the foe,
The old brigade and me,
But by my side they fought and died
That Ireland might be free.
Chorus
And now, my boy, I've told you why
On Easter morn I sigh
For I recall my comrades all
From dark old days gone by,
I think of men who fought in glens
With rifles and grenade
May Heaven keep the men who sleep
From the ranks of the old brigade
Chorus
THE BRAES O' KILLIECRANKIE
Whaur hae ye been sae braw lad? (where) (finely dressed)
Whaur hae ye been sae brankie O? (gaudily dressed)
Whaur hae ye been sae braw lad? (so)
Come ye by Killiecrankie O
Chorus:
And ye had been whaur I hae been (have)
Ye widna been sae cantie O (would not) (lively)
And ye had seen what I hae seen
On the braes o' Killiecrankie O (hills/slopes)
I fought at land I fought at sea
At hame I fought my auntie O (home)
But I met the Devil and Dundee
On the braes o' Killiecrankie
Chorus
The bold Pitcur fell wi' a furr (with) (furrow)
And Clavers gat a clankie O (got) (blow)
And I had fed an Athole gled (greedy person)
On the braes o' Killiecrankie O
Chorus
O fie MacKay what gart ye lie (made)
In the hush ayond the brankie O? (beyond) ((bank)
Ye'd better kissed King Willie's loof (hand)
Than come by Killiecrankie O
Chorus
There's nae shame there's nae shame (no)
There's nae shame tae swankie O (boast)
There's soor sleys on Athole braes (sour)
And the De'il at Killiecrankie O (Devil)
Chorus