RAGLAN ROAD MOLLY MALONE On Raglan Road on an Autumn Day, I saw her first and knew In Dublin's fair city, That her dark hair would weave a snare Where girls are so pretty, That I may one day rue. I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone, I saw the danger, yet I walked As she pushed her wheelbarrow Along the enchanted way Through streets broad and narrow, And I said let grief be a falling leaf Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"! At the dawning of the day. Alive, alive oh! alive, alive oh! On Grafton Street in November, Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"! We tripped lightly along the ledge Of a deep ravine where can be seen Now she was a fishmonger, The worst of passions pledged. And sure twas no wonder, The Queen of Hearts still baking tarts For so were her mother and father before, And I not making hay, And they each wheeled their barrow, Well I loved too much; by such and such Through streets broad and narrow, Is happiness thrown away. Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"! I gave her the gifts of the mind. Alive, alive oh! alive, alive oh! I gave her the secret sign Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"! That's known to all the artists who have Known true Gods of Sound and Time. She died of a fever, With word and tint I did not stint. And no one could save her, I gave her reams of poems to say And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone. With her own name there and her shiny dark hair Now her ghost wheels her barrow, Like the clouds over fields of May. Through streets broad and narrow, Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"! On a quiet street where old ghosts meet, I see her walking now Alive, alive oh! alive, alive oh! away from me, So hurriedly. Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"! My reason must allow, For I have wooed, not as I should A creature made of clay. When the angel woos the clay, he'll lose His wings at the dawn of the day THE RARE OLD TIMES GREEN FIELDS OF FRANCE Raised on songs and stories Well how do you do, young Willie McBride Heroes of renown do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside. The passing tales and glories And rest for a while ´neath the warm summer sun. That once was Dublin town I´ve been working all day and I´m nearly done. The hallowed halls and houses I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen The haunting children's rhymes when you joined the dead heroes of nineteen-sixteen. That once was Dublin city I hope you died well and I hope you died clean In the rare old times Or Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene. Ring a ring a rosie Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly, As the light declines did they sound the dead-march as they lowered you down. I remember Dublin City Did the band play the Last post and chorus? In the rare old times Did the pipes play the ´Flowers of the forest´? My name it is Sean Dempsey And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind As Dublin as could be In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined Born hard and late in Pimlico Although you died back in nineteen sixteen In a house that's ceased to be In that faithful heart are you forever nineteen By trade I was a cooper Or are you a stranger without even a name Lost out to redundancy Enclosed and forever behind the glass frame Like my house that fell to progress In a old photograph, torn and battered and stained My trade's a memory And fade to yellow in a brown leather frame. Ring a ring a rosie Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly, As the light declines did they sound the dead-march as they lowered you down. I remember Dublin City And did the band play “The Last post” in chorus? In the rare old times Did the pipes play the “Flowers of the forest”? I courted Peggy Diagnam The sun now it shines on the green fields of France As pretty as you please There´s a warm summer breeze. it makes the red poppies dance A gentle child of Mary And look how the sun shines from under the clouds From the rebel liberties There´s no gas, no barbed wire, there´s no guns firing now I lost her to a student chap But here in this graveyard it´s still no-man´s-land With skin as black as coal The countless white crosses stand mute in the sand When he took her off to Birmingham To man´s blind indifference to his fellow man She took away my soul To a whole generation that were butchered and damned. Ring a ring a rosie Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly, As the light declines did they sound the dead-march as they lowered you down. I remember Dublin City And did the band play “The Last post” in chorus? In the rare old times Did the pipes play the ´”Flowers of the forest”? Fare thee well sweet Anna Liffey Now young Willie McBride I can´t help but wonder why I can no longer stay Do all those who lie here know why they died And watch the new glass cages And did they believe when they answered the cause That spring up along the quay Did they really believe that this war would end wars My mind's too full of memories Well the sorrows, the suffering, the glory, the pain Too old to hear new chimes The killing and dying was all done in vain I'm a part of what was Dublin For young Willie McBride it all happened again In the rare old times And again, and again, and again, and again. Ring a ring a rosie Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly, As the light declines did they sound the dead-march as they lowered you down. I remember Dublin City And did the band play “The Last post” in chorus? In the rare old times Did the pipes play the ´”Flowers of the forest”? FIESTA GIRV THE SWERVE TRIBUTE SONG I am Francisco Vasquez Garcia (To the tune of “You are my sunshine”) I am welcome to Almeria We have sin gas and con leche You are my Girvan We have fiesta and feria You’re always swervin’ We have the song of the chochona You make me happy We have brandy and half corona When balls are high (When Balls are high) And Leonardo and his accordione And calamari and macaroni You’ll never drop one Cause You’re the Top Gun Come all you rambling boys of pleasure Please don’t take my Girvan away And ladies of easy leisure LEINSTER!! We must say Adios! until we see Almeria once again FATHER ABRAHAM There is a minstrel, there you see, And he stoppeth one in three He whispers in this one's ear Father Abraham had seven sons. "Will you kindly kill that doll for me" Seven sons had father Abraham. Now he has won chochona in the bingo And he never laughed, and he never cried. All the town has watched this crazy gringo All he did was go like this: As he pulls off the doll's head laughing 1. with his left (arm) And miraldo! throws its body in the sea 2. with his right (arm) 3. with his left leg Come all you rambling boys of pleasure 4. with his right leg And ladies of easy leisure 5. and a wiggle We must say Adios! until we see 6. all around Almeria once again 7. sit down Molly Malone El vienticinco de agosto Abrio sus ojos Jaime Fearnley Pero el bebe cinquante Gin-campari Y se tendio para cerrarlos Y Costello el rey del America Y suntuosa Cait O Riordan Non rompere mes colliones Los gritos fuera de las casas Come all you rambling boys of pleasure And ladies of easy leisure We must say Adios! until we see Almeria once again SALLY MACLENNANE THE IRISH ROVER Well Jimmy played harmonica in the pub where I was born On the fourth of July eighteen hundred and six He played it from the night time to the peaceful early morn He soothed the souls of psychos and the men who had the horn We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork And they all left very happy in the morning We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks For the grand city hall in New York Now Jimmy didn't like his place in this world of ours 'Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft Where the elephant man broke strong men's necks And oh, how the wild winds drove her. When he'd had too many Powers So sad to see the grieving of the people that he's leaving She'd got several blasts, she'd twenty-seven masts And he took the road for God knows in the morning And we called her the Irish Rover. We walked him to the station in the rain We had one million bales of the best Sligo rags We kissed him as we put him on the train We had two million barrels of stones And we sang him a song of times long gone Though we knew that we'd be seeing him again We had three million sides of old blind horses hides, We had four million barrels of bones.