The Ship it sails in half an hour to cross the broad Atlantic
Me friends are standing on the quay with grief and sorrow frantic
I'm just about to sail away in the good ship Dan O'Leary
It's anchors aweigh and the gangways up, I'm leaving Tipperary
And it's goodbye Mick and goodbye Pat and goodbye Kate and Mary
The anchor's aweigh, the gangways up, I'm leaving Tipperary
And now the steam is blowing off, I have no more to say
I'm bound for New York City boys, three thousand miles away
In my portmanteau have I some cabbage, beans and bacon
And if you think I can't eat that well there's where yer mistaken
Oh the ship will play with pitch and toss for half a dozen fathoms
I'll roll me bundle on me back and walk to Castle gardens
Now won't I come that Yankee chat, I guess I'm celebrating
Come liquor up ole sonny Boy, while an old friend I am treating
I'm deep in love with Molly Burke like an ass's fond of clover
I'll send for her when I get there - that's if she will come over
Then fare ye well old Erin dear, to part me heart does ache well
From Carrickfergus to Cape Clear - I'll never see your equal
Although to foreign ports we're bound where cannibals may eat us
We'll never forget the Holy Ground - the porter and potatoes
When good Saint Patrick banished snakes he shook 'em from his garments
He never thought we'd go abroad to live upon such varmits
Now quit this land where whiskey brews to wear the Yankee button -
Take vinegar for mountain dew and toads for mountain mutton
Me friends are standing on the quay with grief and sorrow frantic
I'm just about to sail away in the good ship Dan O'Leary
It's anchors aweigh and the gangways up, I'm leaving Tipperary
And it's goodbye Mick and goodbye Pat and goodbye Kate and Mary
The anchor's aweigh, the gangways up, I'm leaving Tipperary
And now the steam is blowing off, I have no more to say
I'm bound for New York City boys, three thousand miles away
In my portmanteau have I some cabbage, beans and bacon
And if you think I can't eat that well there's where yer mistaken
Oh the ship will play with pitch and toss for half a dozen fathoms
I'll roll me bundle on me back and walk to Castle gardens
Now won't I come that Yankee chat, I guess I'm celebrating
Come liquor up ole sonny Boy, while an old friend I am treating
I'm deep in love with Molly Burke like an ass's fond of clover
I'll send for her when I get there - that's if she will come over
Then fare ye well old Erin dear, to part me heart does ache well
From Carrickfergus to Cape Clear - I'll never see your equal
Although to foreign ports we're bound where cannibals may eat us
We'll never forget the Holy Ground - the porter and potatoes
When good Saint Patrick banished snakes he shook 'em from his garments
He never thought we'd go abroad to live upon such varmits
Now quit this land where whiskey brews to wear the Yankee button -
Take vinegar for mountain dew and toads for mountain mutton
Contributed by Bartleby - 2011/5/12 - 08:36
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Album “Across the Broad Atlantic”
Scritta da Brian Warfield
Canzone sull’emigrazione irlandese.