I waiting for John Murphy's van to take me to the site
I've been working seven days a week, from morning to dark night
And as I step inside the van and gently close the door
The first thing that they ask me's; what I did the night before?

Chorus:
Take me back To Castlebar, in the county of Mayo
It's the only place in Ireland; I'm longing for to go
Where they greet you with a friendly smile and they bid you time of day,
When I set me foot in old Mayo I never more will stray

Dirty Jack the ganger man, he talks about the times
Himself and old John Murphy worked deep down in the mines
He says he meets him often at the Dorchester Hotel
If you want to make promotion boy, get down and dig like hell

Read the roll of honour for Ireland's bravest men
We must be united in memory of the ten,
England you're a monster, don't think that you have won
We will never be defeated while Ireland has such sons.

In those weary H-Block cages ten brave young Irishmen lay
Hungering for justice as their young lives ebbed away,
For their rights as Irish soldiers and to free their native land
They stood beside their leader the gallant Bobby Sands.

Now they mourn Hughes in Bellaghy, Ray McCreesh in Armagh's hill
In those narrow streets of Derry they miss O'Hara still,
They so proudly gave their young lives to break Britannia's hold
Their names will be remembered as history unfolds.

So read the roll of honour for Ireland's bravest men
We must be united in memory of the ten,
England you're a monster, don't think that you have won
We will never be defeated while Ireland has such sons.

Through the war torn streets of Ulster the black flags did sadly sway
To salute ten Irish martyrs the bravest of the brave,
Joe McDonnell, Martin Hurson, Kevin Lynch, Kieran Docherty
They gave their lives for freedom with Thomas McElwee.

Michael Devin from Derry you were the last to die
With your nine brave companions with the martyred dead you lie
Your souls cry out remember, our deaths are not in vain
Fight on and make our homeland a nation once again.

So read the roll of honour for Ireland's bravest men
We must be united in memory of the ten,
England you're a monster, don't think that you have won
We will never be defeated while Ireland has such sons

Raised on songs and stories, heroes of renowned
The passing tales and glories that once was Dublin Town
The hallowed halls and houses, the haunting children's rhymes
That once was Dublin City, in the rare ould times

Chorus:
Ring-a-ring-a-rosie as the light declines
I remember Dublin City in the rare ould times

Oh, my name it is Sean Dempsey, as Dublin as can be
Born hard and late in Pimlico in a house that ceased to be
By trade I was a cooper, lost out to redundancy
Like me house that fell to progress, my trade to memory

I courted Peggy Diegnan, as pretty as you please
Oh, a rogue and a child of Mary from the rebel Liberties
I lost her to a student chap, with skin as black as coal
When he took her off to Birmingham, she took away my soul

Chorus

The years have made me bitter, the gargle dims my brain
For Dublin keeps on changin' and nothing stays the same
The Pillar and the Met are gone, the Royal long since pulled
As this gray unyielding concrete makes a city of our town

Chorus

Fare thee well sweet Anna Liffey, I can no longer stay
And watch the new glass cages that spring up along the Quay
My mind's too full of memories, too old to hear new chimes
I'm part of what was Dublin, in the rare ould times

Chorus

One day as I was walking past the bridge in Dolphin's Barn
Down by the old canal I saw some children in a car
In the back they were shootin' up smack, I had a bird's eye view
When I dialed for help, told me there's nothing we can do
Both sides of the river, clearly to be seen
Down along O'Connell Street and up to Stephen's Green
Heroin sold openly; there was no need to hide
The drug squads were out numbered; it seems their hands were tied

John Whacker Humphries he's a family man
Him and his wife they give their children everything they can
Faced with scourge of heroin, they'd not accept defeat
They joined other Concerned Parents to put the dealers off the street
They called on dealer's houses and ordered them to quit
Time and time again, they warned, we've had enough of it
Dirty needles in our doorways, junkies hanging all about
Keep on dealing heroin and you're gonna be moved out

From Saint Teresa's gardens to the flats in Ballymun
Concerned Parents action had the dealers on the run
They swore they'd stand together till the heroin was stopped
Can anybody tell me why they got their fingers rapped

They were rounded up and charged with crimes against the state
Brought before the Green Street Court to decide their fate
Denied a trial by jury and there was no bail
The Concerned Parents were taken off to jail
I was sitting in the gallery among families, friends and wives
I strained to hear who told the truth and who was telling lies
Dealers, junkies and police on the prosecution side
I swear to God that's what I saw before my very eyes


Whacker Humphries took the dealers on and he fought 'em tooth and nail
And a dozen well-armed soldiers took him to the Portlaoise Jail
He tried to protect his children, found guilty of a crime
One man gets a pension, another man gets time

This morning I was walking past the bridge in Dolphin's Barn
I heard a small bird whisper, "Mind you come to any harm"

High upon the gallows tree, swung the noble-hearted three,
By the vengeful tyrant, stricken in their bloom.
But they met him face to face with the courage of their race,
And they went with souls undaunted to their doom.

"God save Ireland," said the heroes.
"God save Ireland," said them all.
"Whether on the scaffold high, or the battlefield we die,
No matter when, for Ireland dear we fall!"

Grit around with cruel foes, sure their courage proudly rose,
For they thought of hearts that loved them far and near.
Of the millions true and brave, o'er the ocean's swelling wave,
And the friends in Holy Ireland ever dear!

"God save Ireland," said the heroes.
"God save Ireland," said them all.
"Whether on the scaffold high, or the battlefield we die,
No matter when, for Ireland dear we fall!"

Climbed they up the rugged stair, rang their voices out in prayer,
Then with England's fatal cord about them cast.
Close beside the gallows tree, kissed like brothers lovingly,
True to home and faith, and freedom to the last!

"God save Ireland," said the heroes.
"God save Ireland," said them all.
"Whether on the scaffold high, or the battlefield we die,
No matter when, for Ireland dear we fall!"

Never 'til the latest day shall the memory pass away,
Of those gallant lives thus given for our land.
And on the cause must go, amidst joy and weal and woe,
'Til me make our isle a nation, free and grand!

"God save Ireland," said the heroes.
"God save Ireland," said them all.
"Whether on the scaffold high, or the battlefield we die,
No matter when, for Ireland dear we fall!"

Let the grasses grow and the waters flow in a free and easy way
Just give me enough of the fine old stuff that's brewed near Galway Bay
Come gougers all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim too
We'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip of the rare old mountain dew

Chorus:

Skid-ree Idle-diddle dum skid-ree Idle-diddle dum
Skid-ree Idle-dum diddle dum day
Skid-ree Idle-diddle dum skid-ree Idle-diddle dum
Skid-ree Idle-dum diddle dum day


There's a neat little still at the foot of the hill, and smoke twirls up to the sky
For the smoke and the smell, its plan to tell that there’s poteen brewing near by
It fills the air, with an odor rare, and betwixt both me and you
When home you stroll, you can take a bowl, or a bucket of the mountain dew

Chorus:

Now learned men who use the pen, have written their praises high
That sweet poteen from Ireland green, distilled from wheat and rye
Throw away your pills; it will cure all ills, of the pagan, the Christian or Jew
Take off your coat and grease your throat, with the real old mountain dew

Chorus:

Thou wilt come no more, gentle Annie,
Like a flower thy spirit did depart:
Thou art gone, alas! like the many
That have bloomed in the summer of my heart.


Shall we nevermore behold thee;
Never hear thy winning voice again
When the Springtime comes, gentle Annie,
When the wild flowers are scattered o'er the plain?

We have roamed and loved mid the bowers
When thy downy cheeks were in their bloom;
Now I stand alone mid the flowers
While they mingle their perfumes o'er thy tomb.

Ah! the hours grow sad while I ponder
Near the silent spot where thou art laid,
And my heart bows down when I wander
By the streams and the meadows where we strayed.

There's four who share this room as we work hard for the crack
And sleeping late on Sundays I never get to Mass

Chorus

It's a long way from Clare to here
It's a long way from Clare to here
It's a long, long way, it grows further by the day
It's a long way from Clare to here

When Friday comes around Terry's only into fighting
My ma would like a letter home but I'm too tired for writing

Chorus

It almost breaks my heart when I think of Josephine
I told her I'd be coming home with my pockets full of green

Chorus

And the only time I feel alright is when I'm into drinking
It sort of eases the pain of it and levels out my thinking

Chorus

I sometimes hear a fiddle play or maybe it's a notion
I dream I see white horses dance upon that other ocean

Chorus
It's a long, long way from Clare to here.

As I went a walkin' one mornin' in spring
I met with some travelers in an old country lane
One was an old man, the second a maid,
And the third was a young boy who smiled as he said

Chorus: We've the wind in the willows,
And the birds in the sky,
We've a bright sun to warm us,
Where ever we lie
We have bread and fishes and a jug of red wine
To share on our journey with all of mankind

I sat down beside them,
The flowers all around,
And we ate on a mantle spread out on the ground
They told me of prophets and princes and kings
And they spoke of the one god who knows everything

I asked them to tell me their name and their race
So I might remember their kindness and grace
My name is Joseph, this is Mary my wife
And this is our young son, our pride and delight
We travel the whole world, by land and by sea
To tell all the people how they might be free

Sadly, I left them, in an old country lane
For I knew that I never would see them again
One was an old man,
the second a maid
And the third was a young boy who smiled as he said
We've the wind....

You may travel far far from your own native home,
Far away o'er the mountains, far a-way o'er the foam,
But of all the fine places that I've ever seen
Oh, there's none can compare with the cliffs of Dooneen.

Take a view o'er the mountains, fine sights you'll see there
You'll see the high rocky mountains on the west coast of Clare,
Oh, the towns af Kilkee and Kilrush can be seen
From the high rocky slopes round the cliffs of Dooneen.

It's a nice place to be on a fine summer's day
Watching all the wild flowers that ne'er do decay
Oh, the hare and lofty pheasant are quite plain to be seen
Making homes for their young round the cliffs of Dooneen.

Fare thee well to Dooneen, fare thee well for a while,
And to all the fine people I'm leaving behind
To the streams and the meadows where late I have been
And the high rocky slopes round the cliffs of Dooneen.

O Paddy dear, and did ye hear the news that's goin' round?
The shamrock is by law forbid to grow on Irish ground!
No more Saint Patrick's Day we'll keep, his color can't be seen
For there's a cruel law ag'in the Wearin' o' the Green."
I met with Napper Tandy, and he took me by the hand
And he said, "How's poor old Ireland, and how does she stand?"
"She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen
For they're hanging men and women there for the Wearin' o' the Green."

"So if the color we must wear be England's cruel red
Let it remind us of the blood that Irishmen have shed
And pull the shamrock from your hat, and throw it on the sod
But never fear, 'twill take root there, though underfoot 'tis trod.

When laws can stop the blades of grass from growin' as they grow
And when the leaves in summer-time their color dare not show
Then I will change the color too I wear in my caubeen
But till that day, please God, I'll stick to the Wearin' o' the Green.

Raised on songs and stories, heroes of renown.
Are the passing tales and glories, that once was Dublin town.
The hallowed halls and houses, the haunting children's rhymes.
That once was Dublin city in the rare old times.

Ring a ring a Rosie, as the light declines,
I remember Dublin city in the rare old times

My name it is Sean Dempsey, as Dublin as can be
Born hard and late in Pimlico, in a house that ceased to be.
By trade I was a cooper, lost out to redundancy.
Like my house that fell to progress, my trade's a memory.

And I courted Peggy Dignan, as pretty as you please,
A rogue and child of Mary, from the rebel Liberties.
I lost her to a student chap, with skin as black as coal.
When he took her off to Birmingham, she took away my soul.

Ring a ring a Rosie, as the light declines,
I remember Dublin city in the rare old times

The years have made me bitter, tha gargle dims my brain,
'cause Dublin keeps on changing, and nothing seems the same.
The Pillar and the Met have gone,
the Royale long since pulled down,
As the great unyielding concrete, makes a city of my town.

Ring a ring a Rosie, as the light declines,
I remember Dublin city in the rare old times

Fare thee well sweet Anna Liffey,
I can no longer stay,
And watch the new glass cages, that spring up along the Quay.
My mind's too full of memories, too old to hear new chimes,
I'm part of what was Dublin, in the rare old times.

Ring a ring a Rosie, as the light declines,
I remember Dublin city in the rare old times

It was on a dreary new years day when the shade of night came down
And a lorry load of volunteers approached the border town
There were men from Dublin and from Cork, Fermanagh and Tyrone
But the leader was a Limerick man Sean South of Garryowen

And as they moved along the street up to the barracks door
They scorned the danger they would meet the fate that lay in store
They were fighting for old Ireland to make their very own
And the foremost of this gallant band was South of Garryowen

But the seargant spoiled their daring plans he spied them through the door
And with sten guns and with rifle a hail of death did pour
But before that awful night was past two men lay cold as stone
There was one from near the border and one from Garryowen

No more he'll hear the seagull cry o'er the murmuring Shannon tide
For he fell beneath a northern sky brave O'Hanlon by his side
He has gone to join that gallant band of Plunkett Pearse and Tone
Another martyr for old Ireland Sean South of Garryowen.

Let grasses grow and waters flow in a free and easy way
But give me enough of the rare old stuff
that's made near Galway Bay
And policemen all from Donegal,
Sligo and Leitrim too
We'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip
of the real old mountain dew

There's a neat little still at the foot of the hill
Where the smoke curls up to the sky
By a whiff of the smell you can plainly tell
That there's poteen boys close by
For it fills the air with a perfume rare
and betwixt both me and you
As home we roll, we can drink a bowl
Or a bucketful of mountain dew

Now learned men as use the pen
have writ' the praises high
Of the rare poteen from Ireland green
Distilled from wheat and rye
Away with your pills, it'll cure all ills
Be ye pagan, Christian, or Jew
So take off your coat and grease your throat
With a bucket of the mountain dew.