Fields of Athenry
By a lonely prison wall
I heard a young girl calling,
Michael they have taken you away,
For you stole Trevelyn’s corn,
So the young might see the morn.
Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay.
Low lie the Fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly.
Our love was on the wing,
We had dreams and songs to sing,
It’s so lonely round the Fields of Athenry.
By a lonely prison wall
I heard a young man calling,
Nothing matters Mary when you’re free,
Against the Famine and the Crown,
I rebelled they cut me down.
Now you must raise our child with dignity.
Refrein
By a lonely harbour wall
She watched the last star falling,
As the prison ship sailed out against the sky,
For she’ll live in hope and pray
For her love in Botany Bay.
It’s so lonely round the Fields of Athenry.
Refrein
The Galway Girl
Well, I took a stroll on the old long walk
Of a day-i-ay-i-ay
I met a little girl and we stopped to talk
Of a fine soft day-i-ay
And I ask you, friend, what’s a fella to do?
Because her hair was black and her eyes were blue
And I knew right then, I’d be taking a whirl
Around the Salthill prom with a Galway girl
We were halfway there when the rain came down
Of a day-i-ay-i-ay
She asked me up to her flat downtown
Of a fine soft day-i-ay
And I ask you, friend, what’s a fella to do?
Because her hair was black and her eyes were blue
I took her hand and I give her a twirl
And I lost my heart to a Galway girl
When I woke up, I was all alone
With a broken heart and a ticket home
And I ask you now, tell me what would you do?
If her hair was black and her eyes were blue
‘Cause I’ve traveled around, I’ve been all over this world
Boys, I ain’t never seen nothing like a Galway girl
Cockles and mussels / Molly Malone
In Dublin’s fair city, where girls are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone.
As she wheel’d her wheelbarrow,
thro’ streets broad and narrow,
crying: ‘Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh’.
‘Alive, alive oh, alive, alive oh’,
crying ‘Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh’.
She was a fishmonger, and sure ‘t was no wonder,
for so were her father and mother before.
And they each wheel’d their barrow,
thro’ streets broad and narrow,
crying: ‘Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh’.
She died of a fever, and no one could save her,
and that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.
Her ghost wheels her barrow,
thro’ streets broad and narrow,
crying: ‘Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh’.