Lisdoonvarna Lyrics
| Song | Lisdoonvarna |
| Artist | Christy Moore |
| Album | Ride On |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| How's it goin' there everybody, | |
| From Cork, New York, Dundalk, Gortahork and Glenamaddy. | |
| Here we are in the County Clare | |
| It's a long, long way from here to there. | |
| There's the Burren and the Cliffs of Moher, | |
| the Tulla and the Kilfenora, | |
| Miko Russell, Doctor Bill, | |
| Willy Clancy, Noel Hill. | |
| Flutes and fiddles everywhere. | |
| If it's music you want, | |
| You should go to Clare. | |
| CHORUS | |
| Oh, Lisdoonvarna | |
| Lisdoon, Lisdoon, Lisdoon, Lisdoonvarna! | |
| Everybody needs a break, | |
| Climb a mountain or jump in a lake. | |
| Some head off to exotic places, | |
| Others go to the Galway Races. | |
| Mattie goes to the South of France, | |
| Jim to the dogs, Peter to the dance. | |
| A cousin of mine goes potholing, | |
| A cousin of heres loves Joe Dolan. | |
| Summer comes around each year, | |
| We go there and they come here. | |
| Some jet off to ... Frijiliana, | |
| But I always go to Lisdoonvarna. | |
| CHORUS | |
| I always leave on a Thursday night, | |
| With me tent and me groundsheet rolled up tight. | |
| I like to hit Lisdoon, | |
| In around Friday afternoon. | |
| This gives me time to get me tent up and my gear together, | |
| I don't need to worry about the weather. | |
| Ramble in for a pint of stout, | |
| you'd never know who'd be hangin' about! | |
| There's a Dutchman playing a mandolin, | |
| And a German looking for Liam Óg O'Floinn. | |
| And there's Adam, Bono and Garrett Fitzgerald, | |
| Gettin' their photos taken for the Sunday World. | |
| Finbarr, Charlie and Jim Hand, | |
| And they drinkin' pints to bate the band. | |
| ( why would'nt they for Jasus sake are'nt they getting it for nothing) | |
| CHORUS | |
| The multitudes, they flocked in throngs | |
| To hear the music and the songs. | |
| Motorbikes and Hi-ace vans, | |
| With bottles - barrels - flagons - cans. | |
| Mighty craic. Loads of frolics, | |
| Pioneers and alcoholics, | |
| PLAC, SPUC and the FCA, | |
| Free Nicky Kelly and the IRA. | |
| Hairy chests and milk-white thighs, | |
| mickey dodgers in disguise. | |
| Mc Graths, O'Briens, Pippins, Coxs, | |
| Massage parlours in horse boxes. | |
| There's amhráns, bodhráns, amadáns, | |
| Arab sheiks, Hindu Sikhs, Jesus freaks, | |
| RTE are makin' tapes, takin' breaks and throwin' shapes. | |
| This is heaven, this is hell. | |
| Who cares? Who can tell? | |
| (Anyone for the last few Choc Ices, now?) | |
| CHORUS | |
| A 747 for Jackson Browne, | |
| They had to build a special runway just to get him down. | |
| Before the Chieftains could start to play, | |
| Seven creamy pints came out on a tray. | |
| Shergar was ridden by Lord Lucan, | |
| Seán Cannon did the backstage cookin'. | |
| Clannad were playin' "Harry's Game", | |
| Christy was singin' "Nancy Spain". | |
| Mary O'Hara and Brush Shields, | |
| Together singin' "The Four Green Fields". | |
| Van the Man and Emmy Lou, | |
| Moving Hearts and Planxty too! | |
| CHORUS | |
| Everybody needs a break, | |
| Climb a mountain or jump in a lake. | |
| Sean Doherty goes to the Rose of Tralee, | |
| Oliver J. Flanagan goes swimming in the Holy Sea. | |
| But I like the music and the open air, | |
| So every Summer I go to Clare. | |
| Coz Woodstock, Knock nor the Feast of Cana, | |
| Can hold a match to Lisdoonvarna. | |
| CHORUS |
| How' s it goin' there everybody, | |
| From Cork, New York, Dundalk, Gortahork and Glenamaddy. | |
| Here we are in the County Clare | |
| It' s a long, long way from here to there. | |
| There' s the Burren and the Cliffs of Moher, | |
| the Tulla and the Kilfenora, | |
| Miko Russell, Doctor Bill, | |
| Willy Clancy, Noel Hill. | |
| Flutes and fiddles everywhere. | |
| If it' s music you want, | |
| You should go to Clare. | |
| CHORUS | |
| Oh, Lisdoonvarna | |
| Lisdoon, Lisdoon, Lisdoon, Lisdoonvarna! | |
| Everybody needs a break, | |
| Climb a mountain or jump in a lake. | |
| Some head off to exotic places, | |
| Others go to the Galway Races. | |
| Mattie goes to the South of France, | |
| Jim to the dogs, Peter to the dance. | |
| A cousin of mine goes potholing, | |
| A cousin of heres loves Joe Dolan. | |
| Summer comes around each year, | |
| We go there and they come here. | |
| Some jet off to ... Frijiliana, | |
| But I always go to Lisdoonvarna. | |
| CHORUS | |
| I always leave on a Thursday night, | |
| With me tent and me groundsheet rolled up tight. | |
| I like to hit Lisdoon, | |
| In around Friday afternoon. | |
| This gives me time to get me tent up and my gear together, | |
| I don' t need to worry about the weather. | |
| Ramble in for a pint of stout, | |
| you' d never know who' d be hangin' about! | |
| There' s a Dutchman playing a mandolin, | |
| And a German looking for Liam Ó g O' Floinn. | |
| And there' s Adam, Bono and Garrett Fitzgerald, | |
| Gettin' their photos taken for the Sunday World. | |
| Finbarr, Charlie and Jim Hand, | |
| And they drinkin' pints to bate the band. | |
| why would' nt they for Jasus sake are' nt they getting it for nothing | |
| CHORUS | |
| The multitudes, they flocked in throngs | |
| To hear the music and the songs. | |
| Motorbikes and Hiace vans, | |
| With bottles barrels flagons cans. | |
| Mighty craic. Loads of frolics, | |
| Pioneers and alcoholics, | |
| PLAC, SPUC and the FCA, | |
| Free Nicky Kelly and the IRA. | |
| Hairy chests and milkwhite thighs, | |
| mickey dodgers in disguise. | |
| Mc Graths, O' Briens, Pippins, Coxs, | |
| Massage parlours in horse boxes. | |
| There' s amhra ns, bodhra ns, amada ns, | |
| Arab sheiks, Hindu Sikhs, Jesus freaks, | |
| RTE are makin' tapes, takin' breaks and throwin' shapes. | |
| This is heaven, this is hell. | |
| Who cares? Who can tell? | |
| Anyone for the last few Choc Ices, now? | |
| CHORUS | |
| A 747 for Jackson Browne, | |
| They had to build a special runway just to get him down. | |
| Before the Chieftains could start to play, | |
| Seven creamy pints came out on a tray. | |
| Shergar was ridden by Lord Lucan, | |
| Sea n Cannon did the backstage cookin'. | |
| Clannad were playin' " Harry' s Game", | |
| Christy was singin' " Nancy Spain". | |
| Mary O' Hara and Brush Shields, | |
| Together singin' " The Four Green Fields". | |
| Van the Man and Emmy Lou, | |
| Moving Hearts and Planxty too! | |
| CHORUS | |
| Everybody needs a break, | |
| Climb a mountain or jump in a lake. | |
| Sean Doherty goes to the Rose of Tralee, | |
| Oliver J. Flanagan goes swimming in the Holy Sea. | |
| But I like the music and the open air, | |
| So every Summer I go to Clare. | |
| Coz Woodstock, Knock nor the Feast of Cana, | |
| Can hold a match to Lisdoonvarna. | |
| CHORUS |
| How' s it goin' there everybody, | |
| From Cork, New York, Dundalk, Gortahork and Glenamaddy. | |
| Here we are in the County Clare | |
| It' s a long, long way from here to there. | |
| There' s the Burren and the Cliffs of Moher, | |
| the Tulla and the Kilfenora, | |
| Miko Russell, Doctor Bill, | |
| Willy Clancy, Noel Hill. | |
| Flutes and fiddles everywhere. | |
| If it' s music you want, | |
| You should go to Clare. | |
| CHORUS | |
| Oh, Lisdoonvarna | |
| Lisdoon, Lisdoon, Lisdoon, Lisdoonvarna! | |
| Everybody needs a break, | |
| Climb a mountain or jump in a lake. | |
| Some head off to exotic places, | |
| Others go to the Galway Races. | |
| Mattie goes to the South of France, | |
| Jim to the dogs, Peter to the dance. | |
| A cousin of mine goes potholing, | |
| A cousin of heres loves Joe Dolan. | |
| Summer comes around each year, | |
| We go there and they come here. | |
| Some jet off to ... Frijiliana, | |
| But I always go to Lisdoonvarna. | |
| CHORUS | |
| I always leave on a Thursday night, | |
| With me tent and me groundsheet rolled up tight. | |
| I like to hit Lisdoon, | |
| In around Friday afternoon. | |
| This gives me time to get me tent up and my gear together, | |
| I don' t need to worry about the weather. | |
| Ramble in for a pint of stout, | |
| you' d never know who' d be hangin' about! | |
| There' s a Dutchman playing a mandolin, | |
| And a German looking for Liam Ó g O' Floinn. | |
| And there' s Adam, Bono and Garrett Fitzgerald, | |
| Gettin' their photos taken for the Sunday World. | |
| Finbarr, Charlie and Jim Hand, | |
| And they drinkin' pints to bate the band. | |
| why would' nt they for Jasus sake are' nt they getting it for nothing | |
| CHORUS | |
| The multitudes, they flocked in throngs | |
| To hear the music and the songs. | |
| Motorbikes and Hiace vans, | |
| With bottles barrels flagons cans. | |
| Mighty craic. Loads of frolics, | |
| Pioneers and alcoholics, | |
| PLAC, SPUC and the FCA, | |
| Free Nicky Kelly and the IRA. | |
| Hairy chests and milkwhite thighs, | |
| mickey dodgers in disguise. | |
| Mc Graths, O' Briens, Pippins, Coxs, | |
| Massage parlours in horse boxes. | |
| There' s amhrá ns, bodhrá ns, amadá ns, | |
| Arab sheiks, Hindu Sikhs, Jesus freaks, | |
| RTE are makin' tapes, takin' breaks and throwin' shapes. | |
| This is heaven, this is hell. | |
| Who cares? Who can tell? | |
| Anyone for the last few Choc Ices, now? | |
| CHORUS | |
| A 747 for Jackson Browne, | |
| They had to build a special runway just to get him down. | |
| Before the Chieftains could start to play, | |
| Seven creamy pints came out on a tray. | |
| Shergar was ridden by Lord Lucan, | |
| Seá n Cannon did the backstage cookin'. | |
| Clannad were playin' " Harry' s Game", | |
| Christy was singin' " Nancy Spain". | |
| Mary O' Hara and Brush Shields, | |
| Together singin' " The Four Green Fields". | |
| Van the Man and Emmy Lou, | |
| Moving Hearts and Planxty too! | |
| CHORUS | |
| Everybody needs a break, | |
| Climb a mountain or jump in a lake. | |
| Sean Doherty goes to the Rose of Tralee, | |
| Oliver J. Flanagan goes swimming in the Holy Sea. | |
| But I like the music and the open air, | |
| So every Summer I go to Clare. | |
| Coz Woodstock, Knock nor the Feast of Cana, | |
| Can hold a match to Lisdoonvarna. | |
| CHORUS |
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