As I came in by Fiddich-side on a May morning I spied Willie MacIntosh an hour before the dawning “Turn again, turn again, turn again I bid ye If ye burn Auchindoon, Huntly he will heid ye” “Heid me or hang me, that will never fear me I will burn Auchindoon ere the life leaves me” As I came in by Fiddich side on a May morning Auchindoon was in a blaze an hour before the dawning Crawing, crawing, for all your crowse crawing Ye’ve brunt yer crops and tint yer wings An hour before the dawnin’ heid = behead crowse = arrogant tint = clipped

Taobh cùil an doruis cha bhi grian Suidh aig bòrd cha bhi biadh ‘s cha bhi fìon Le èiginn ar n-èirigh às ar suain Le èiginn ar n-èirigh às ar suain An Gaidheal ‘sa leabaidh An Gaidheal ‘na shuain Le èiginn ar n-èirigh às ar suain Thàinig e as Sasainn ann Thàinig e le eachaibh luath is iuchair throm Air làr ‘san toll-dhubh cha bhi grian Cha bhi gealach ‘s dubh an oidhche chaidleas sinn [On the other side of the door there will be no sun Sitting at the table there will be no food and no wine It is with difficulty that we will rise from our slumber The Gael is abed, the Gael is asleep He came from the south He came with a fast horse and a heavy key On the dungeon oor there will be no sun There will be no moon and dark is the night as we sleep]

What’s the spring-breathing jasmine and rose? What’s the summer with all its gay train Or the plenty of autumn to those Who’ve bartered their freedom for gain? Let the love of our land’s sacred rights To the love of our people succeed Let friendship and honour unite And flourish on both sides the Tweed No sweetness the senses can cheer Which corruption and bribery bind No brightness that gloom can e’er clear For honour’s the sun of the mind Let virtue distinguish the brave Place riches in lowest degree Think them poorest who can be a slave Them richest who dare to be free

Bheir mi scriob do Thobar Mhoire Far a bheil mo ghaol an comunn E ho hi iù ra bho o hi ù E ho hao ri ri E ho hao ri ‘s na bho hù o E ho hi iù ra bho o hi ù Luchd nan leadan ‘s nan cùl donna Dh’ òladh a’ on dearg na thonnan Bheir mi scriob dhan Achaidh Luachrach Far a bheil mo ghaol an t-uasal Gheibhinn cadal leat gun chluasaig ‘S cùl mo chin am bac do ghuailleadh [I shall take a trip to Tobermory To the company that I love The folk of the long flowing brown hair Who drink red wine in bumpers I shall take a trip to Field-of-Rushes To my noble lover I would sleep with you with no pillow And the back of my head in the crook of your shoulder]

Oh Annan Water 's wondrous deep And my love Annie 's wondrous bonny I'm loath that she should wet her feet Because I love her best of any Go saddle for me the bonny grey mare Go saddle her soon and make her ready For I must cross that stream tonight Or never more I'll see my lady And woe betide you Annan Water By night you are a gloomy river And over you I'll build a bridge That never more true love may sever And he has ridden o'er field and fen O'er moor and moss and many 's the mire His spurs of steel were sore to bide Sparks from the mare's hooves flew like fire The mare flew on o'er moor and moss And when she reached the Annan Water She couldn't have ridden a furlong more Had a thousand whips been laid upon her Oh boatman come put off your boat! Put off your boat for golden money For I must cross that stream tonight Or never more I'll see my lady The sides are steep, the water's deep From bank to brae the water 's pouring And the bonny grey mare she sweats for fear She stamps to hear the water's roaring And he has tried to swim that stream And he swam on both strong and steady But the river was wide and strength did fail And never more he’ll see his lady And woe betide the willow wand And woe betide the bush and briar For they broke beneath her true love’s hand When strength did fail and limbs did tire

As I was walking all on my lane I heard twa corbies makin’ a mane And tane untae the t’other did say oh “Where sall we gang and dine the day oh?” “Where sall we gang and dine the day?” In behint yon auld fail dyke I wot there lies a new-slain knight And naebody kens that he lies there oh Save his hawk, his hound and his lady fair oh His hawk, his hound and his lady fair His hound is tae the hunting gane His hawk, to fetch the wild fowl hame His lady’s ta’en anither mate oh So we may mak’ our dinner sweet oh We may mak’ our dinner sweet Ye’ll perch on his white hause bane And I’ll pike oot his bonny blue e’en Wi’ aye a lock of his gowden hair oh We’ll theek our nest when it grows bare oh We’ll theek our nest when it grows bare Mony an ane on him maks mane But nane sall ken where he is gane O’er his white banes when they are bare oh The wind sall blow for evermair oh The wind sall blow for evermair

The magpie brings us tidings of news both fair and foul She’s more cunning than the raven, more wise than any owl She brings us news of the harvest of barley, wheat, and corn She knows when we’ll go to our graves, how we shall be born One’s for sorrow, two’s for joy Three’s for a girl and four’s for a boy Five for silver, six for gold And seven for a secret never told Devil, devil, I defy thee She brings us joy when from the right, grief when from the left Of all the news that’s in the air we know to trust her best For she sees us at our labour and she mocks us at our work She steals the egg from out of the nest and she can mob the hawk The priest, he says we’re wicked to worship the devil’s bird Ah, but we respect the old ways and we disregard his word For we know they rest uneasy as we slumber in the night And we always leave a little bit of meat for the bird that’s black and white

High upon a lonely moora widow lived alone An inn she kept, and as she slept the pillow heard her moan “Oh many is the traveller who’s spent the night with me There’s not a man in all creation gives content to me Oh some can manage once or twice, and some make three or four It seems to me a rarity is the man who can do more I’ll do anything to find him in Heaven or in Hell” And as these words were spoken, then she heard the front door bell! And the wind blew cold and lonely across that widow’s moor And she never, ever turned away a traveller from the door So boldly then the widow ran and the door she opened wide And as she did a tall and handsome stranger stepped inside She gave him bread and brandy, and when that he was fed He said, “Me dear, now have no fear, it’s time to come to bed For I’ve heard your call way down below and I’ve come to see you right But you must come to Hell with me if I can last the night” She said, “You randy devil, to this bargain I’ll agree For Hell on earth, or Hell in Hell, it’s all the same to me” So then they both fell into bed, and the devil was working well He thought before the night was through she’d be in his Hell But when they came to number nine the widow cried out, “More!” And when the twelfth time came around again she cried for more At twenty- five the devil felt compelled to take a rest The widow said, “Come raise your head and put me to the test” At sixty-nine the widow laughed, “again, again!” she cried The devil he said, “Well I can see just how your husband died” At ninety-nine the devil he began to cry and weep He said, “I’ll give you anything if you let me go to sleep” Before the morning light was up the devil hobbled home The widow, still not satisfied, once more was left alone There she lay and grumbled as she thought of ninety-nine “If only that old devil could have made it one more time! I’ll call him up again tonight and see what can be done With a bit more application, he could have made the ton” But when she called to him that night, No devil did appear For the first time in eternity, the devil he shook with fear He said, “Of all the torment I’ve witnessed here in Hell I never knew what pain was ‘til I rang your front door bell!”

Cathain a thiocfaidh tú sabhaile chugam Ó cathain a dtagaimíd le chéile arís Cathain a thiocfaidh tú sabhaile chugam Fanaim ar an lá is fanfaidh mé go dílis Braithim go bhfuileann tú in easnamh orm Braithim tú is tú i bhfad uaim Braithim go bhfuileann tú in easnamh orm N’fheadar cathain a bhlais dh mé do bhéola arís Spéir céanna os mo chionn is an talamh céanna fúm Na shléibhte i mo thimpeall mar a bhí siad riamh Tá an taoide ag tuilleadh is ag trá mar a bhíonn ‘S tú ar an mbothar gan mise le do thaobh Cloisim do gháir i mo bhrionglóidí Cloisim do ghlór is mé i mo luí Féachaim ar an mbóithrín trí fhuineog an tí An bóthar a thug tú gan mise le do thaobh [When will you come home to me? When will we be together again? When will you come home to me? I’ll wait for that day and I’ll wait loyally I feel your absence I feel you though you are far away I feel that we’re apart And I don’t know when I’ll taste your lips again The same sky above me, the same ground underneath The mountains around me are as they ever were The tide is ebbing and flowing as it does And you are on the road without me at your side I hear your laughter in my dreams I hear your voice where I’m in bed I see the road through the window in the house The road you took without me at your side]

Buachaill ón Eirne mé ‘s bhreagfainn féin cailín deas óg Ní iarrfainn bó spré léithe tá mé féin saibhir go leor ‘S liom Corcaigh da mhéid é dhá thaobh an ghleanna ‘s Tír Eoghainn ‘S mura n-athraí mé beasaí ‘s mé’n t-oidhr’ ar Chondae Mhaigheo Rachaidh mé amárach a dhéanamh leanna fán choill Gan choite gan bád gan gráinnín brach’ ar bith liom Ach duilliúr na gcraobh mar éadaigh leapa ós mo chionn ‘S óró sheacht m’ anam déag thú ‘s tú ag féachaint tharam anall Buachailleacht bó mo leo nar chleacht mise ariamh Ach ag imirt ‘s ag ól le hógmhná dheasa fán shliabh Má chaill mé mo stór ní moide gur chaill mé mo chiall Is ní mó liom do phóg ná ‘n bhróg atáim a’ chaitheamh le bliain A chuisle ‘s a stór ná pós an seanduine liathn Ach pós an fear óg mura maire se ach an bliain Nó beidh tú go fóill gan ‘ó’ nó ‘mac’ os do chionn Ag silfeadh na deora tráthnóna nó ar maidin go trom [A boy from the Eirne am I, and would court a fine young girl I won’t ask a cow as dowry, I am myself quite wealthy I own Cork, the full extent of it, both sides of the glen, and Tyrone And unless I change my ways I’m the heir to the County Mayo I will go tomorrow to make pale ale in the woods Without a coracle, without a boat, without a grain of gruel But the leaves of the branch as bedclothes over my head And oh! you, the utmost of my soul, watching me from afar The tending of cattle I have never practised But playing and drinking with fine young women by the mountain Were I to lose my wealth I would hardly lose my senses I prefer your kiss to the shoe that I’ve been wearing for a year Oh darling, my treasure, don’t marry the grey old man But marry the young man even if he survives but one year Or you will yet be without ‘O’ or ‘Mac’ over your head Shedding tears, in the evening or morning, heavily]

Nead na lachan sa mhúta, nead na lachan sa mhúta Nead na lachan sa mhúta, ‘S cuir dh mé amach ar an gcuan thú Haigh dí didil dí didil dí, Haigh dí dí dí déró Haigh dídil haigh, Haigh dídil haigh dí didil dí déró Bhéarfaidh mé currach is criú dhuit Ceannóidh mé slat agus d’rú dhuit Cuardóigh mé bean agus spré dhuit [The duck’s nest (is) in the moat And I’ll send you out on the harbour I’ll get a currach and crew for you And I’ll send you out on the harbour I’ll buy a fishing rod and line for you And I’ll send you out on the harbour I’ll find a wife and dowry for you And I’ll send you out on the harbour] Téir abhaile ‘rú téir abhaile ‘rú Téir abhaile ‘rú a Mhaire Téir abhaile is fan sabhaile Mar tá do mhargadh déanta Is cuma cé dhein é nó nár dhein Is cuma cé dhein é a Mhaire Is cuma cé dhein é nó nár dhein mar tá do mhargadh déanta Níl mo mhargadh! Tá do mharghad! Níl mo mhargdadh déanta Tá do mhargadh! Níl mo mhargadh! Tá do mhargadh déanta Pós an piobaire pós an piobaire Pós an piobaire a Mhaire Pós an piobaire dtús na hoíche Is beidh sé agat sa mhaidin [Go home, Mary, go home and stay at home Because your match is made It doesn’t matter who made it or who didn’t It doesn’t matter who made it, Mary, Because your match is made My match isn’t! Your match is! My match isn’t made! Your match is! My match isn’t! Your match is made! Marry the piper, Mary, marry the piper early at night And you’ll have him in the morning] In the merry month of June from me home I started Left the girls of Tuam sad and broken hearted Saluted father dear, I kissed me darlin’ mother! I drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born I cut a stout black thorn to banish ghost and goblin! In a brand new pair of brogues rattling o’er the bogs Fright’ning all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin! One two three four five Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road And all the ways to Dublin, whack follol derah! In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary Started at daylight next morning light and airy Took a drop of the pure to keep me heart from sinking That’s the Paddy’s cure whene’er he’s on for drinking See the lassies smile, laughing all the while At me curious style, ‘twould set your heart a bubblin’ Asked me was I hired, the wages I required Till I was nearly tired of the rocky road to Dublin In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity To be so soon deprived a view of that fair city So then I took a stroll, all among the quality Me bundle it was stole, all in a neat locality Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind No bundle could I nd upon me stick a wobblin’ Enquiring for the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue It wasn’t much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin From there I got away, me spirits never failing Landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing The captain at me roared, said that no room had he When I climbed aboard, a cabin found for Paddy Down among the pigs, played some funny rigs I danced some hearty jigs, the waters round me bubblin’ When off Holyhead I wished meself was dead Or better far instead on the rocky road to Dublin The boys of Liverpool, when I’d safely landed Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it Me blood began to boil, me temper I was losing Poor old Erin’s Isle they began abusing “Hurrah me soul!” said I my shillelagh I let fly Galway boys were by they saw I was a hobblin’ With a loud “hurray!” they joined in the affray We quickly cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin

Somebody under the bed, whoever can it be? I feel so very nervous, I call for Joanie Joanie lights the candle but there’s nobody there Hey! Hi! Diddly di and out goes she Skipping rope still turning, children at their play In and out of Clarendon Street In and out to pray I haven't prayed for twenty years or sung a happy song Since praying went with innocence and the devil played along And we all went up to the Mero: 'Hey there! Who's your man?' It's only Johnny Fortycoats, sure he's a desperate man Bang Bang shoots the buses with his golden key Hey! Hi! Diddely di and out goes she Me father was a stater, me mother loved a tan She loved her Hafner's sausages and her soldier fancy man Noel's up in Jacob's and Mary's on the town And I joined the transport union when they said my nose was brown And we all went up to the Mero: 'Hey there! Who's your man?' It's Alfie Byrne out walking, sure he's a decent man Bang Bang shoots the buses with his golden key Hey! Hi! Diddely di and out goes she I've a tanner for the Mero and me confo money's hid If Mary's in the family way she can blame the Cisco kid I'll be langers in the morning, me longers need a patch Ah, Jaysus! There's Con Martin. I hope he's won the match! Me uncle had a wolfhound that never had to pee But Hairy Lemon snatched it down on Eden quay Now I have me primo and me scapulars are blue For helping the black babies and Dolly Fossett too And we all went up to the Mero: 'Hey there! Who's your man?' It's Brendan Behan out walking, sure he's a ginger man Bang Bang shoots the buses with his golden key Hey! Hi! Diddely di and out goes she It's true that Dublin's changing since the pillar was blown down By the winds of violence that are buggering up the town We used to solve a difference with a digging match and a jar But now they're all playing bang! bang! That's going too bleeding far And we all go up to the Mero: 'Hey there! Who's your man?' It's only me guardian angel. Get a large one for your man There's no use bleedin' rushing, for now is the holy hour A plenary indulgence and another baby Power

When I was a boy in Carlingford, all sixty years ago The eucalypts grew straight and tall, the creeks did sweetly flow But times were hard when the old man died and the orchard it would not pay So I left the land for the factory gate and I’m working there still today I’ve earned my bread in the metal shops for forty years and more My hands are hard and acid-scarred as the boards on the workshop floor My soul is cased in Kembla steel and me eyelids have turned to brass And the orchard’s gone, and the apple trees where the wind whispered through the grass Oh the workbench is my altar where I come to take the host Copper, brass and fine sheet steel – Father, Son and Holy Ghost The sacramental wine of work grows sour upon my tongue Oh the fruit was sweet on the apples trees when my brothers and I were young

Close the coalhouse door, lad, there's blood inside Blood from broken hands and feet Blood that's dried on pit-black meat Blood from hearts that know no beat Close the coalhouse door, lad, there's blood inside Close the coalhouse door, lad, there's bones inside Mangled, splintered piles of bones Lie buried 'neath a mile of stone And not a soul to hear their groans Close the coalhouse door, lad, there's bones inside Close the coalhouse door, lad, there's bairns inside Bairns that had no time to hide Bairns beneath the mountainside Bairns that saw the blackness slide Close the coalhouse door, lad, there's bairns inside Close the coalhouse door, lad, and stay outside Geordie's standin' on the dole And Mrs Jackson, like a fool Complains about the price of coal Close the coalhouse door, lad, there's blood inside, Close the coalhouse door, lad, there's bones inside, Close the coalhouse door, lad, there's bairns inside, Close the coalhouse door, lad, and stay outside

I can hew boys, I can hack it out I can hew the coal, I can dance and shout I can hew boys, coal that’s black and fine I’m a collier lad, working down the mine On Saint Monday’s day, I do well admire For to sit at home by me own coal fire Then it’s off to the pub, for a pint or two For to work on a Monday, that would never do Well I likes my whiskey and I likes my beer I’ll drink eighteen pints and I’ll not feel queer I can hold my liquor good as any man And I’ll dance and sing as long as I can Well my boy's fourteen, he's a strappin' lad And he'll go to the pit soon, just like his dad And when Friday comes, we'll pick up our pay And we'll drink together, to round off the day And when I die, then I know full well I'm not going to heaven, for I’m bound for hell And my pick and shovel, old Nick will admire And he'll set me hewin' coal for his own hell fire

Bide a wee ye bonnie hours o’ sweet yestreen Haud awa’ the thocht that e’er I will forget Lang the wimplin wey unrowes afore my een? And the mindin’ will be sweeter yet Aye, the road was haudin’ frae the lass that I will aye remember Braw burn the bridges far behind me in the rain The leaves were changin’ tae the colour’s o’ the glowing embers My heart lay waiting for the spring tae come again Hae we rin the gless or daur we dream of mair While as surely as the river meets the sea? When the eastlin’s wind has blawn the forest bare Will the pertin’ a’ the wider be? Could I leeze me on your lousome face again Gin the traivel’s turn should bring me tae your side Fain would I nae langer steek my heart wi’ pain Or lay curse upon the ocean wide ... Wait a while you lovely hours of sweet yesterday evening Hold off the thought that I will ever forget Long the winding way unrolls before my eyes And remembering will be sweeter yet Yes the road was leading from the lass that I will always remember The bridges burn bravely far behind me in the rain The leaves were changing to the colour of the glowing embers My heart lay waiting for the spring to come again Have we drained the glass or dare we dream of more? While as surely as the river meets the sea When the Eastern wind has blown the forest bare Will the parting be all the wider? Could I gaze upon your loving face again If the travel’s turn should bring me to your side Fain would I no longer stab my heart with pain Or lay curse upon the ocean wide

Giant squids at the bottom of the ocean Have a better time than we Giant squids at the bottom of the ocean Have a much better time than we do They have fun, they have fun They have great big squiddy fun In the dark, in the cold, in the deep They’re the hugest creatures Anyone saw with their eyes But nobody’s ever seen them and not been telling lies Boy do they know how to have a good time Slappity slappity slap Flappity flappity flap Glip glup glap glop Glip glup glop flap Mmmmm A million tons of pressure And a million miles of room Squirt a million gallons of ink into the gloom They have fun, they have fun They have great big squiddy fun In the dark, in the cold, in the deep