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From The Plough To The Stars- A Celtic Punk Celebration Of Irish Rebel Songs

by Various Artists

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1.
Brit's Out 00:33
2.
I was born on a Dublin street where the Royal drums did beat And those loving English feet did walked all over us; Oh and nearly every night, when me Da would come home tight He'd invite the neighbours outside with this chorus; Come out you Black and Tans; Come out and fight me like a man; Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders; Oh and how the I.R.A. made you run like hell away From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra Come, let us hear you tell How you slandered great Parnell When you thought him well and truly persecuted Where are the sneers and jeers That you lovely let us hear When our leaders of sixteen were executed Come out you Black and Tans; Come out and fight me like a man; Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders; Oh and how the I.R.A. made you run like hell away From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra Come, tell us how you slew Them ol' Arabs two by two; Like the Zulus, they had spears and bows and arrows; How bravely you faced one With your sixteen pounder gun And you frightened them all natives to their marrow Come out you Black and Tans; Come out and fight me like a man; Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders; Oh and how the I.R.A. made you run like hell away From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra Now, the time is coming fast And I think those days are here When those English johnnies heels will run before us; Oh and, if there be a need Then our kids will say "Godspeed!" With a verse or two of singing this fine chorus Come out you Black and Tans; Come out and fight me like a man; Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders; Oh and how the I.R.A. made you run like hell away From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra Come out you Black and Tans; Come out and fight me like a man; Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders; Oh and how the I.R.A. made you run like hell away From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra
3.
Chorus: 38 in ‘83 H- Block Escapee 38 IRA Free! September 25, 1983 The Escape-proof prison- the Maze The greatest escape in History 38 IRA got Free Smuggled in six guns Took over H-Block Seven Bm G A Then Drove trucking away CHORUS RUC tried to catch them Check points were all evaded 18 made it to Armagh 7 made it all the way Four took planes to the USA UK failed to extradite anyway!
4.
Give Ireland back to the Irish Don't make them have to take it away Give Ireland back to the Irish Make Ireland Irish today Great Britain you are tremendous And nobody knows like me But really what are you doin' In the land across the sea Tell me how would you like it If on your way to work You were stopped by Irish soldiers Would you lie down do nothing Would you give in, or go berserk Give Ireland back to the Irish Don't make them have to take it away Give Ireland back to the Irish Make Ireland Irish today Great Britain and all the people Say that all people must be free Meanwhile back in Ireland There's a man who looks like me And he dreams of god and country And he's feeling really bad And he's sitting in a prison Should he lie down do nothing Should give in or go mad Give Ireland back to the Irish Don't make them have to take it away Give Ireland back to the Irish Make Ireland Irish today Give Ireland back to the Irish Don't make them have to take it away Give Ireland back to the Irish Make Ireland Irish today.
5.
6.
Lift, McCahir Og, your face Still brooding over the old disgrace? That Black Fitzwilliam stormed your place Drove you to the Fern Gray said victory was sure And soon the Firebrand he'd secure Until he met at Glenmalure With Fiach MacHugh O'Byrne Curse and swear, Lord Kildare Fiach will do, what Fiach will dare Now Fitzwilliam have a care Fallen is your star low Up with halberd, out with sword On we'll go for by the lord Fiach MacHugh has given the word Follow me up to Carlow See the swords of Glen Imayle They're flashing over the English pale See all the children of the Gael Beneath O'Byrne's banners Roosters of the fighting stock Would you let a Saxon cock Crow out upon, an Irish rock? Fly up and teach him manners Curse and swear, Lord Kildare Fiach will do, what Fiach will dare Now Fitzwilliam have a care Fallen is your star low Up with halberd, out with sword On we'll go for by the lord Fiach MacHugh has given the word Follow me up to Carlow From Tassagart to Clonmore There flows a stream of Saxon gore O great is Rory Og Omore At sending the loons to Hades White is sick, Grey is fled And now for Black Fitzwilliams head We'll send it over dripping red To Queen Liza and her ladies Curse and swear, Lord Kildare Fiach will do, what Fiach will dare Now Fitzwilliam have a care Fallen is your star low Up with halberd, out with sword On we'll go for by the lord Fiach MacHugh has given the word Follow me up to Carlow
7.
When I was young, I used to be, As fine a man as ever you'd see, 'til the Prince of Wales, he said to me, Come and join the British army. Too-ra loo-ra loo-ra loo, They're lookin' for monkeys up in the zoo, And if ever I had a face like you? I'd join the British army. Sarah Comden baked a cake, It's all for poor old Slattery's sake, Sure I threw meself into the lake, Pretendin' I was barmy. Too-ra loo-ra loo-ra loo, I've made me mind up what to do, Now I'll work me ticket home to you, And Fuck the British Army. Sergeant Heeley went away And his wife got in the family way, And the only words that she could say, Was blame the British army. Too-ra loo-ra loo-ra loo, Me curse upon the Labour blue, That took me darlin' boy from me, To join the British army. Corporal Sheen's a bit of a lout, Just give him a couple o' jars o' stout, He'll bite the enemy with his mouth, And save the British army. Too-ra loo-ra loo-ra loo, I've made me mind up what to do, Now I'll work me ticket home to you, And Fuck the British Army.
8.
9.
By a lonely prison wall I heard a young girl calling Michael they are taking you away For you stole Trevelyn’s corn So the young might see the morn. Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay. Chorus Low lie the Fields of Athenry Where once we watched the small free birds fly. Our love was on the wing we had dreams and songs to sing It’s so lonely ’round the Fields of Athenry. By a lonely prison wall I heard a young man calling Nothing matters Mary when you’re free, Against the Famine and the Crown I rebelled they ran me down Now you must raise our child with dignity. Chorus By a lonely harbour wall She watched the last star falling As that prison ship sailed out against the sky Sure she’ll wait and hope and pray For her love in Botany Bay It’s so lonely ’round the Fields of Athenry. Chorus
10.
Take it down from the mast Irish traitors, The flag we Republicans claim, It can never belong to Free Staters, You brought on it nothing but shame. Then leave it to those who are willing, To uphold it in war and in peace, To those who intend to continue, Until England’s cruel tyranny cease. You have taken our brave Liam and Rory, You have murdered young Richard and Joe, Your hands with their blood are still gory, Fulfilling the work of the foe. But we stand with Enright and Larkin, With Daly and Sullivan bold, We will break down the English connection, And bring forth the nation you sold. Take it down from the mast Irish traitors, The flag we Republicans claim, It can never belong to Free Staters, For you brought on it nothing but shame.
11.
There's a uniform that's hanging in what's known as father's room A uniform so simple in its style It's got no braid of gold or silk no hat with feathered plume Yet me mother has preserved it all the while One day she made me try it on, a wish of mine for years "In memory of your father, dear" she said And when I put the Sam Browne on she was smiling through her tears As she placed the broad black brimmer on me head It's just a broad black brimmer, ribbons frayed and torn By the careless whisk of many's a mountain breeze An old trench coat that's all battle-stained and worn And breeches almost threadbare at the knees A Sam Brown belt with the buckle big and strong A holster that's been empty many's a day (But not for long) But, when men claim Ireland's freedom the one should choose to lead them Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA It was the uniform been worn by me father long ago When he reached me mothers homestead on the run It was the uniform been worn in that little church below Now Father Maccy blessed the pair as one After truce and treaty and the parting of the ways He wore it when he marched out with the rest (And the best) And when they bore his body down that rugged heather braes They placed the broad black brimmer on his breast It´s just a broad black brimmer, ribbons frayed and torn By the careless whisk of many's a mountain breeze An old trench coat that's all battle-stained and worn And breeches almost threadbare at the knees A Sam Brown belt with the buckle big and strong And a holster that's been empty many's a day (But not for long) But, when men claim Ireland's freedom the one should choose to lead them And wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA There's a uniform that's hanging in what's known as father's room A uniform so simple in its style It's got no braid of gold or silk no hat with feathered plume Yet me mother has preserved it all the while One day she made me try it on, a wish of mine for years "In memory of your father, dear" she said And when I put the Sam Browne on she was smiling through her tears As she placed the broad black brimmer on my head It´s just a broad black brimmer, ribbons frayed and torn By the careless whisk of many's a mountain breeze An old trench coat that´s all battle-stained and worn And breeches almost threadbare at the knees A Sam Brown belt with the buckle big and strong A holster that's been empty many's a day (But not for long) But, when men claim Ireland's freedom the one should choose to lead them And wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA
12.
13.
God save Ireland, said the heroes God save Ireland, said they all Whether on the scaffold high Or the battlefield we die Oh, what matter when for Erin dear we fall High upon the gallows tree swung the noble hearted three By the vengeful tyrant stricken in their bloom But they met him face to face with the courage of their race And they went with souls undaunted to their doom God save Ireland, said the heroes God save Ireland, said they all Whether on the scaffold high Or the battlefield we die Oh, what matter when for Erin dear we fall Climbed they up the rugged stair, rang their voices out in prayer Then with England's fatal cord around them cast Close beside the gallows tree kissed like brothers lovingly True to home and faith and freedom to the last God save Ireland, said the heroes God save Ireland, said they all Whether on the scaffold high Or the battlefield we die Oh, what matter when for Erin dear we fall Never till the latest day shall the memory pass away Of the gallant lives thus given for our land But on the cause must go, amidst joy and weal and woe Till we make our Isle a nation free and grand God save Ireland, said the heroes God save Ireland, said they all Whether on the scaffold high Or the battlefield we die Oh, what matter when for Erin dear we fall
14.
T'was on a dreary New Years Eve As the shades of night came down A lorry load of volunteers approached the border town There were men from Dublin and from Cork, Fermanagh and Tyrone And the leader was a Limerick man - Sean South from Garryowen As they moved along the street up to the barracks door They scorned the danger they might face Their fate that lay in store They were fighting for old Ireland to claim their very own And the foremost of that gallant band Was South from Garryowen But the sergeant spied their daring plan He spied them trough the door The Sten guns and the rifles a hail of death did pour And when that awful night had passed Two men lay cold a s stone There was one from near the border and one from Garryowen No more we will he hear the seagull's cry Over the murmuring Shannon tide For he fell beneath a Northern sky brave Hanlon by his side They have gone to join that gallant band Of Plunkett, Pearse and Tone A martyr for old Ireland Sean South from Garryowen
15.
Have you ever walked the lonesome hills And heard the curlews cry Or seen the raven black as night Upon a windswept sky To walk the purple heather And hear the westwind cry To know that's where the rapparee must die Since Cromwell pushed us westward To live our lowly lives There's some of us have deemed to fight From Tipperary mountains high Noble men with wills of iron Who are not afraid to die Who'll fight with Gaelic honour held on high A curse upon you Oliver Cromwell You who raped our Motherland I hope you're rotting down in hell For the horrors that you sent To our misfortune forefathers Whom you robbed of their birthright To hell or Connaught may you burn in hell tonight Of one such man I'd like to speak A rapparee by name and deed His family dispossessed and slaughtered They put a price upon his head His name is known in song and story His deeds are legends still And murdered for blood money Was young Ned of the hill
16.
I'll sing you a song of a row in the town When the Green flag went up and the Crown flag came down Twas the neatest and sweetest thing ever you saw And they played the great game they call Erin Go Bragh God Bless gallant Pearse and his comrades who died Tom Clarke, MacDonagh, MacDiarmada, MacBride And here's to James Connolly who gave one Hurrah! And faced the machine guns for Erin Go Bragh Now one of ourleaders was down in rings end For the honor of Ireland to hold and defend He had no veteran soldiers but volunteers raw Playing sweet Mauser music for Erin Go Bragh Old Ceannt and his comrades like lions at bay From the South Dublin Union poured death and dismay, Butwhat was their often when the invaders men saw All the dead khaki soldiers in Erin Go Bragh A great foreign captain was raving that day Saying "Give me one hour and they'll blow you away" But a big Mauser bullet got stuck in his yaw, And he died of lead poisoning in Erin Go Bragh A glory to Dublin, to her do renown In the long generations her fame will go down And the children will tell how their forefathers saw The red blaze of freedom called Erin Go Bragh
17.
Go on home British Soldiers Go on home Have you got no fucking homes of your own For 800 years we've fought you without fear And we will fight you for 800 more If you stay British Soldiers If you stay You'll never ever beat the IRA For the 14 men in Derry Are the last that you will bury So take a tip And leave us bloody be So Go on home British Soldiers Go on home Have you got no fucking homes of your own For 800 years we've fought you without fear And we will fight you for 800 more We're not British, we're not Saxon we're not English We're Irish and proud we are to be So fuck your Union Jack We want our country back We want to see old Ireland free once more So Go on home British Soldiers Go on home Have you got no fucking homes of your own For 800 years we've fought you without fear And we will fight you for 800 more We'll fight them British Soldiers for the cause We'll never bow to Soldiers because Throughout our history We were born to be free So get out British bastards leave us be So Go on home British Soldiers Go on home Have you got no fucking homes of your own For 800 years we've fought you without fear And we will fight you for 800 more Go on home British Soldiers Go on home Have you got no fucking homes of your own For 800 years we've fought you without fear And we will fight you for 800 more
18.
Oh I am a merry ploughboy And I plough the feilds all day 'Till a sudden thought came to my mind That I should roam away For im tired of this civilian life Since the day that I was born So im off to join the IRA And im off tomorrow morn' And were all off to Dublin in the green Where the helmets glisten in the sun Where the bay'nets clash And rifles crash To the echo of the thompson gun I'll leave aside my pick and spade I'll leave aside my plough Oh ill leave aside my horse and yoke For no more I'll need them now And I leave aside my MAry She is the girl I do adore And I wonder if She thinks of me when she hears that canon roar And we're all off to Dublin in the green, in the green Where the helmets glisten in the sun Where the bay'nets flash and the riffles crash To the rattle of a Thompson gun And when the war is over, and dear old Ireland is free I'll take her to the church to wed and a rebel's wife she'll be Well some men fight for silver and some men fight for gold But the I.R.A. are fighting for the land that the Saxons stole And we're all off to Dublin in the green, in the green Where the helmets glisten in the sun Where the bay'nets flash and the riffles crash To the rattle of a Thompson gun
19.
Green mountains and rivers, the Emerald Isle, a nation occupied for eight hundred years. Now is the time to rise up and fight, and get the freedom that was taken from us. We have a hero in I-RE-LAND! Our brave "Big Fella" in I-RE-LAND! As statesman and as commander, his bravery encourages US IN BATTLE! Our soldiers must hold the line to send these invaders out. We have a hero in I-RE-LAND! (I-RE-LAND!) The Harp Flag will wave again. WILL WAVE AGAIN! In a free and glorious land. Caps and rifles across the fields, guns in the pub at quarter to six. Now is the time to rise up and fight, and get the freedom that was taken from us. We have a hero in I-RE-LAND! Our brave "Big Fella" in I-RE-LAND! And this hero has a name, a name that everyone knows (MICHAEL COLLINS!) He commands our liberators and makes the enemy ashamed. We have a hero in I-RE-LAND! (I-RE-LAND!) The Harp Flag will wave again. Now is the time to rise up and fight, and get the freedom that was taken from us. Now is the time to rise up and fight, TO RISE'UP AND FIGHT! Right now is the time TO RISE'UP AND FIGHT! NOW IS THE TIME FOR IRELAND!
20.
21.
As down the glen one Easter morn to a city fair rode I There Armed lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by No pipe did hum no battle drum did sound its loud tattoo But the Angelus Bell o'er the Liffey's swell rang out in the foggy dew Right proudly high over Dublin Town they hung out the flag of war 'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky than at Suvla or Sud-El-Bar And from the plains of Royal Meath strong men came hurrying through While Britannia's Huns, with their long range guns sailed in through the foggy dew Twas England bade our wild geese go, that small nations might be free Their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves or the fringe of the great North Sea Oh, had they died by Pearse's side or fought with Cathal Brugha Their names we'd keep where the Fenians sleep, 'neath the shroud of the foggy dew Oh the bravest fell, and the Requiem bell rang mournfully and clear For those who died that Eastertide in the spring time of the year While the world did gaze, in deep amaze, at those fearless men, but few Who bore the fight that freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew Back through the glen I rode again, my heart with grief was sore For I parted with those valiant men that I'll never see more But to and fro in my dreams I go and I kneel and pray for you For slavery fled, O glorious dead, when you fell in the foggy dew
22.
(Chorus) We're on the one road Sharing the one load We're on the road to God knows where We're on the one road It may be the wrong road But we're together now who cares North men, South men, comrades all Dublin, Belfast, Cork and Donegal We're on the one road swinging along Singing a soldier's song Though we've had our troubles now and then Now is the time to make them up again Sure aren't we all Irish anyhow Now is the time to step together now (Chorus repeat) Tinker, tailor, every mother's son Butcher, baker shouldering his gun Rich man, poor man, every man in line All together just like Old Land Syne (Chorus repeat) Night is darkest just before the dawn From dissention Ireland is reborn Soon we'll all be United Irishmen Make our land a Nation Once Again (Chorus repeat)

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A collection and celebration of the best Celtic-Punk Irish rebel songs.
Click on the individual track for lyrics, history of the song and band information and album links.

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released February 24, 2023

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The London Celtic Punks London, UK

For drunx, celtic-punx and vagabonds!
"There's always been a strong argument that folk music is the original rebel music. The music of the people and historically through that music the people challenged the land owners, challenged the state and wrote the stories that recounted these acts; Therefore it could be argued that folk was in fact the first real punk rock" ... more

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