Author name: beerbellycollection

Ah Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street, A gentleman Irish mighty odd Well he had a tongue both rich and sweet, An’ to rise in the world he carried a hod Ah

There’s many a date in history of which the poet sings, Of battles won and battles lost, of emperors and kings. But the fifth day of October stays in my me

It was Christmas Eve babe In the drunk tank An old man said to me, won’t see another one And then he sang a song The Rare Old Mountain Dew And I turned my

Come tell me, dearest mother, what makes my father stay Or what can be the reason that he’s been so long away? Oh hold your tongue, my darling son, your te

Long long ago in this ancient land A battle took place where two hills now stand And on the plain there lay the slain For neither the battle was won So the

Come all you warriors and renowned nobles Give ear unto my warlike theme While I relate how brave Father Murphy He lately roused from his sleepy dream Sure

Wee Willie John McFadden was a loyal Ulster Prod Who thought that Ian Paisley was one step down from God He scorned the little children, in the backstreets

Now boys, if you will listen, a story I’ll relate I’ll tell you of the noble men who from their foe escaped. Though bound with Saxon fetters in the dark Au

The little boat had gone from the breast of An Liffey And the Ferrymen were stranded on the Quay Ah the Dublin docks are dying and a way of life is gone An

As I walked by the dockside one evening so fair To view the salt water and take the sea air I heard an old fisherman singing a song Won’t you take ma away