The Green Fields of Canada (the Green Fields Of America or Amerikay)

Language: English

Related Songs

La chanson des corbeaux
(Gaston Couté)
Lullaby for the dead
(The Chieftains)
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(The Chieftains)

As more and more Irish men and women emigrated to America, news started to flow more regularly between the two sides of the Atlantic and the temptation to leave was doubtless hard to resist: ‘So pack up your sea-stores, consider no longer, for ten dollars a week isn’t very bad pay, with no taxes or tithes to devour up your wages’. Very often, a son or a daughter in the family would be chosen to emigrate and money was gathered for the passage ticket, in the hope that it would soon be reimbursed by his or her wages in America. Later, he or she might also pay for the passage of a second member of a family, etc.

Sung by Cheerish the Ladies, Déanta, Planxty, Rua, Chieftains,
Farewell to the groves of shillelagh and shamrock
Farewell to the wee girls of old Ireland all 'round
May their hearts be as merry as ever I would wish them
When far, far away across the ocean I'm bound

Oh my father is old, and my mother is quite feeble
To leave their own country, it grieves their heart sore
Oh the tears in great drops down their cheeks, they are rolling
To think they must die upon some foreign shore

But what matters to me where my bones may be buried
If in peace and contentment I can spend my life
Oh the green fields of Canada, they daily are blooming
And it's there I'll put an end to my miseries and strife

So pack up your sea stores and tarry no longer
Ten dollars a week isn't very bad pay
With no taxes or tithes to devour up your wages
When you're on the green fields of America

The sheep run unshorn, and the land's gone to rushes
The handyman is gone, and the winders of creels
Away across the ocean go journeyman tailors
And fiddlers that play out the old mountain reels

Farewell to the dances in homes now deserted
When tips struck the lightening in sparks from the floor
The paving and crigging of hobnails on flagstones
The tears of the old folk and shouts of encore

For the landlords and bailiffs in vile combination
Have forced us from hearth stone and homestead away
May the crowbar brigade all be doomed to damnation
When we're on the green fields of America

And it's now to conclude and to finish my story
If e'er friendless Irishmen chance my way
With the best in the house I will treat him and welcome
At home in the green fields of America

Contributed by dq82 - 2015/11/11 - 13:36

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