The Merry Ploughboy
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.
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.
Credits
Writer(s): Dominic Behan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 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.