Michael Conway
Oh me name is Michael Conway, in old Ireland I was born
Near the lake of Cloonacolly on a bright summer's morn
But soon came cruel winter to break and scatter my poor home
Soon came the harsh day that forced me to roam.
Well I reached bold Philadelphia in the brave land of the free
Where I met with my two brothers; There was Pat, James, then me
We were destined for the rich land, fate owes us all from birth
We were bound for Butte, Montana, the richest hill on earth
Where their pockets they bulge heavy, when copper's running high
Where the hill rewards her brave sons, it's fortune or die
Where they tread on silver dollars on the crowded barroom floor
While they strip the granite mountain of her precious copper ore.
Well we leaped down off that steam train, and stepped out into the yellow
mist
With holes still in our hearts then, and a fight in either fist
No kind face to lead us up to where the dirty smelter spat
And it's there I took to hard labor as a Butte mining rat
Where we trade the hours of daylight for the smell of copper ore,
Where it's whiskey and the cow pats to cure our copper sores
Where half the town it labors while the other half it sleeps
Where upon the granite mountain, a mile high and deep.
Oh they know me down in Dogtown, bare knuckle I would go
For there's not a man could best me while standing toe to toe
But I defied the crooked sheriff, for I wouldn't throw his fight away
He should have laid it on at 5 to 2, and backed the bold Conway
I was lifted in Con Peoples, with the beer and music flowing free
Where my brothers had just left me, Oh bad fortune for me
Dragged out by crooked cowards, their batons knocked me off my feet
And they left me to die there, like a dog in the street.
Far from the Anaconda, the mine with seven stacks
Far from the ashen faces of young men with crooked backs
Far from the granite mountain and the dusty grave in which I lie
My spirit chases starlings 'round a clear Mayo sky.
Near the lake of Cloonacolly on a bright summer's morn
But soon came cruel winter to break and scatter my poor home
Soon came the harsh day that forced me to roam.
Well I reached bold Philadelphia in the brave land of the free
Where I met with my two brothers; There was Pat, James, then me
We were destined for the rich land, fate owes us all from birth
We were bound for Butte, Montana, the richest hill on earth
Where their pockets they bulge heavy, when copper's running high
Where the hill rewards her brave sons, it's fortune or die
Where they tread on silver dollars on the crowded barroom floor
While they strip the granite mountain of her precious copper ore.
Well we leaped down off that steam train, and stepped out into the yellow
mist
With holes still in our hearts then, and a fight in either fist
No kind face to lead us up to where the dirty smelter spat
And it's there I took to hard labor as a Butte mining rat
Where we trade the hours of daylight for the smell of copper ore,
Where it's whiskey and the cow pats to cure our copper sores
Where half the town it labors while the other half it sleeps
Where upon the granite mountain, a mile high and deep.
Oh they know me down in Dogtown, bare knuckle I would go
For there's not a man could best me while standing toe to toe
But I defied the crooked sheriff, for I wouldn't throw his fight away
He should have laid it on at 5 to 2, and backed the bold Conway
I was lifted in Con Peoples, with the beer and music flowing free
Where my brothers had just left me, Oh bad fortune for me
Dragged out by crooked cowards, their batons knocked me off my feet
And they left me to die there, like a dog in the street.
Far from the Anaconda, the mine with seven stacks
Far from the ashen faces of young men with crooked backs
Far from the granite mountain and the dusty grave in which I lie
My spirit chases starlings 'round a clear Mayo sky.
Credits
Writer(s): Michael Mcauley (ie), Seamus Egan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.