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Well it's by the hush, me boys |
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And that's to mind your noise |
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And listen to poor Paddy's sad narration |
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I was by hunger stressed |
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And in poverty distressed |
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So I took a thought I'd leave |
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The Irish nation |
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Well I sold me horse and cow |
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My little pigs and sow |
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My father's farm of land |
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I then departed |
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And me sweetheart Bid McGee |
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I'm afraid I'll never see |
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For I left her there that morning |
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Broken-hearted |
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Here ye boys |
|
Now take my advice |
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To America I'll have ye |
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Not be coming |
|
There is nothing here but war |
|
Where the murderin' cannons roar |
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And I wish I was at home |
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In dear old Dublin |
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Well meself and a hundred more |
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To America sailed o'er |
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Our fortunes to be making |
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We were thinkin' |
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When we got to yankee land |
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They put guns into our hands |
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Saying "Paddy, you must go |
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And fight for Lincoln" |
|
Here ye boys |
|
Now take my advice |
|
To America I'll have ye |
|
Not be coming |
|
There is nothing here but war |
|
Where the murderin' cannons roar |
|
And I wish I was at home |
|
In dear old Dublin |
|
General Meagher to us he said |
|
If you get shot or lose your head |
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Every mother's son of youse |
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Will get a pension |
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Well in the war I lost me leg |
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And all I've now's a wooden peg |
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And by soul it is the truth |
|
To you I mention |
|
Here ye boys |
|
Now take my advice |
|
To America I'll have ye |
|
Not be coming |
|
There is nothing here but war |
|
Where the murderin' cannons roar |
|
And I wish I was at home |
|
In dear old Dublin |
|
Well I think meself in luck |
|
If I get fed on Indianbuck |
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And old Ireland is the country |
|
I delight in |
|
To the devil I would say |
|
God curse Americay |
|
For in truth I've had enough |
|
Of your hard fightin |
|
Here ye boys |
|
Now take my advice |
|
To America I'll have ye |
|
Not be going |
|
There is nothing here but war |
|
Where the murderin' cannons roar |
|
And I wish I was at home |
|
In dear old Dublin |
|
I wish I was at home |
|
I wish I was at home |
|
I wish I was at home |
|
In dear old Dublin |
