Lyrics

While goin’ the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo While goin’ the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo While goin’ the road to sweet Athy A stick in me hand

Kilkelly, Ireland, 1860, my dear and loving son John Your good friend schoolmaster Pat McNamara’s so good as to write these words down. Your brothers have

They say the Easter Lily blooms no more, no more in Erin Now the Irish dance to different tunes and scorn the lily’s wearin’ While in Flanders Field the po

Chorus: It’s a long lonely road that has no turning And a sad stream that never sees the sea But let the truth by known that a great unrest has grown In th

Farewell to Prince’s Landing Stage River Mersey, fare thee well I am bound for California A place I know right well Chorus: So fare thee well, my own true

My Aunt Jane she brought me in, she gave tea out of her wee tin Half a bap, a wee snow top, three black lumps out of her wee shop Half a bap, a wee snow to

Macushla! Macushla! Your sweet voice is calling Calling me softly again and again Macushla! Macushla! I hear its dear pleading My blue eyed Macushla, I hea

Nancy was a tinker girl who roamed the country roads And I will tell you how she came to be a legend in her time And the reason that I’ve come to know well

Still forms, grey dust, black stones in Dublin city, A grave in green Kildare, And many a grassy mound that moves our pity O’er Erin everywhere; Cave Hill

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,