ONE LAST COLD KISS
Two island swans, mated for life,
And his faithful heart would not consider any other wife.
For three years peaceful joy midst the rushes of the pond,
Proud and gentle was the loving of the last two island swans.
Their love was like a circle, no beginning and no end,
With his lady by his side a treasure and best friend.
The pond was all so peaceful in the rising of the sun,
Young and free at the island breeze their life had just begun.
'Till a dread day in November when the searing cold did start,
Stalked the hunter with his bow and put an arrow through her heart.
Husband come to my side let your feathers warm my pain,
For I feel I will not spend another day with you again.
And the cold winds blow,
He was brave but he's laid low.
By her body in the isle of mist,
I saw him give her one last cold kiss, one last cold kiss.
Of swans the people talk of only one in this days tide,
Through they brought him twenty ladies he would take no other bride.
They say he will not move from the place where she did fall,
Once so proud he's beaten now and he will not rise at all.
ONLY OUR RIVERS RUN FREE
(Michael McConnell)
When apples still grow in November, when blossoms still grow from each tree
When leaves are still green in December, it's then that our land will be free
I wander her hill and her valleys and still through my sorrow I see
A land that has never known freedom, and only her rivers run free
I drink to the depth of her manhood, to those men who would rather have died
Than to live in the cold chains of bondage, to bring back their rights where denied
Oh where are we now when we need you, what burns where the flame used to be
Are you gone like the snows of last winter, and will only her rivers run free
How sweet is life but we're crying, how mellow the wine but we're dry
How fragrant the rose but it's dying, how gentle the wind but it sighs
What good is in youth when it's aging, what joy is in eyes that can't see
When there's sorrow and sunshine and flowers and still only our rivers run free
THE ORANGE AND THE GREEN
(Anthony Murphy)
Chorus:
It is the biggest mixed up that you have ever seen
My father he was orange, and my mother she was green
Oh, my father was an Ulsterman, proud Protestant was he
My mother was a Catholic girl from County Cork came she
They were married in two churches, lived happily enough
Until the day that I was born and things got rather tough
Chorus
Baptized by Father Reilly, then rushed away by car
To be made a little Orangeman, my father's shining star
I was christened David Anthony but still in spite of that
To my father I was William while my mother called me Pat
Chorus
With mother every Sunday to mass I'd proudly stroll
Then after that, the Orange lodge would try to save me soul
For both sides tried to claim me but I was smart, because,
I'd play the flute or play the harp depending where I was
Chorus
Now when I sing them rebel songs much to my mother's joy
My father would leap and shout, "Look here, William, my boy.
That's quite enough of that lot.” He'd then toss me a coin
And have me sing King Billy and the Heroes of Boyne
Chorus
One day my ma's relations came round to visited me
Just as my father's kinfolk were all sitting down to tea
We tried to smooth things over but they all began to fight
And me being strictly neutral I bashed everyone in sight
Chorus
Now my parents never could agree about my type of school
My learning was all done at home, that's why I'm such a fool
They've both past on, God rest them, but left me caught between
The awful color problem of the Orange and Green
Chorus
Chorus
ORDINARY MAN
(Peter Haymes)
I'm an ordinary man, nothing special nothing grand
I've had to work for everything I own
I never asked for a lot, I was happy with what I got,
Enough to keep my family and my home
Now they say that times are hard and they've handed me my card,
They say there's not the work to go around
When the whistle blows the gates will finally close,
Tonight they're going to shut this factory down, then they'll tear it down
I never missed a day nor went on strike for better pay,
For twenty years I served them best I could
With a handshake and a check it seems so easy to forget,
Loyalty through the bad times and the good
The owner says he's sad to see that things have got so bad,
But the Captains of Industry won't let him lose
He stills drives his car and smokes a big cigar,
Still he takes his family on a cruise, he'll never lose
Now it seems to me such a cruel irony,
He's richer now than ever he was before
Now my check is spent, I can't afford the rent,
There's one law for the rich, one for the poor
Everyday I've tried to salvage some of my pride,
To find some work so I might pay my way
But everywhere I go the answer's always no,
There's no work for anyone here today, No work today
And so condemned I stand, just an ordinary man,
Like thousands beside me in the queue
I watch my darling wife, tryin' to make the best of life,
God knows what the kids are goin' to do
Now that we are faced with this human waste,
A generation cast aside
For as long as I live I never will forgive,
You've stripped me of my dignity and pride, You've stripped me bare
ORO, ORO
(Finbar Furey)
Chorus:
Oro, oro, oro Abhaile Michael
O Ro Se do Bheatha Abhaile
But find us bloody work there
From Donegal to the County Kerry,
From Belfast City to Hills of Derry
We come from Clare, from Meath and Mayo
To work across the ocean
Chorus
I see Rossleare and the Wexford Harbor
The Waterford coast with the fishing trawler
We crossed Kildare right through to Carlow
To work across the ocean
Chorus
I'm tired of leaving the hills of Galway
I'm fed up with sailing away from Dublin
We just left Limerick and Cork behind us
To work across the ocean
Chorus
I'm tired of the tears from me mother Katie
I'm fed up with leaving my sister Mary
And my father sayin, "Take it nice and easy.”
When workin' across the ocean
Chorus
We don't need the pity of the politicians
With their crocodile tears and useless petitions
Just give us some work with suitable positions
Stop the exodus across the ocean
Chorus
THE OULD ALARM CLOCK
When first I came to London in the year of thirty-nine
The city was so wonderful and he girls were so divine
But the coppers got suspicious and they soon gave me the knock
I was charged with being the owner of an ould alarm clock
Next morning down by Marlborough Street I cause no little stir
For the IRA were busy and the telephone did burr
Says the judge I'm going to charge you with the possession of this machine
And I'm also going to charge you with the wearing of the green
Now says I to him, "Your honor, if you give me half a chance"
"I'll show you how this small machine can make the polis dance"
"It ticks away politely, till you get an awful shock"
"And it ticks away the gelignite in me ould alarm clock"
The judge says, "Listen here my man and I'll tell you of my plan"
"For you and all your countrymen I do not give a damn"
"The only time you'll take is mine, ten years is Dartmoor dock"
"And you can count it by the ticking of your ould alarm clock"
This lonely Dartmoor city would put many in the jigs
Now the cell it isn't pretty and it isn't very big
I'd long ago have left the place if I had only got
Ah me couple of sticks of gelignite and me ould alarm clock
THE OULD ORANGE FLUTE
In the County Tyrone in the town of Dungannon
Where manys the ructions meself had a hand in
Bob Williamson lived there a weaver be trade
And all of us thought him a stout Orange blade
On the twelfth of July as it yearly did come
Bob played with his flute to the sound of the drum
You talk of your harp and your piano of flute
And along with latter his ould orange flute
But Bob, the deceiver, he took us all in
He married a Papist named Bridget McGinn
Turned Papist himself and forsook the old cause
That gave us our freedom, religion and laws
Now the boys in the place made some comment upon it
And Bob had to fly to the province of Connaught
Well he fled with his wife and his fixings to boot
And along with latter his ould orange flute
At the chapel on Sundays, to atone for past deeds
He said Paters and Aves and counted his beads
Till, after some time, at the priest's own desire
Bob went with his ould flute to play in the choir
Well he went with his ould flute to play for the mass
But the instrument shivered and sighed, oh alas
And, blow as he would, though it made a great noise
The flute would play only "The protestant boys"
At the council of priests that was held the next day
They decided to banish the ould flute away
They couldn't knock heresy out of its head
So that bought Bob a new one to play in its stead
Now the ould flute was doomed and its fate was pathetic
It was fastened and burned at the stake as heretic
As the flame roared around it, sure they heard a great noise
'Twas the ould flute still playing "The protestant boys"
Too-ra-loo too-ra-lay it's six miles from Banger to Donaghadee
Our lads in Crumlin jail
In Ireland's fight for freedom, boys, the North has played her part
And though her day has yet to come, we never yet must part,
We'll keep the fight until the end, we know we cannot fail.
And there's the reason why today they keep our lads in Crumlin Jail,
So join the fight, you volunteers, it cannot be denied.
That jail won't break their spirits down
They'd just as soon have died for England know
And England hates our fearless Northern name.
And that's another reason why they keep our lads in Crumlin Jail.
We give to Ireland Owen Roe, we give them Shane O'Neill,
And Tone and Mitchell made a vow, that England still would yield,
McKelvey did not die in vain, he was a Northern Gael.
McCracken came from Belfast town, McCorry from the Bann,
And brave Harry Munro at Ballynahinch, but, for his native land,
Tom Williams died on scaffold high, his name shall never fail.
THE OVERGATE
For as I gaed doon the Overgate I met a bonny wee lass
For she winked tae me with the tail o'her e'e as I went walking past
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day
I asked her what her name might be, she said: “Jemima Rose
And I live in Blaeberry Lane at the foot o'the Buchan Close.”
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day
I asked her what was her landlady's name, she said it was Mrs. Bruce
And with that she invited me to come awa' to the hoose
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day
As we went up the windin' stair, them bein'long and dark
For I slipped my money from my inside pooch and I tied it to the tail o' my sark
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day
We scarcely had got in the hoose when she took me tae a room
It was there we pulled a bottle oot, and then we baith sat down
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day
But a' nicht long I dreamed I was lying in the airms o' Jemima Rose
But when I wokened I was lying on my back at the foot o' the Buchan Close
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day
Come a' ye jolly ploo men lads that gang oot for a walk
Just slip your money frae your inside pooch and tie it to the tail o' your sark.
Ricky doo dum day, doo dum day, ricky ricky doo dum day