1. |
Brit's Out
00:33
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2. |
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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
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3. |
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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!
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4. |
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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.
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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
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7. |
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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.
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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
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10. |
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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.
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11. |
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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
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12. |
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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18. |
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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
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19. |
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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!
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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
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22. |
Larkin - On The One Road
03:14
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(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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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"
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