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Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 60, my dear and loving son John |
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Your good friend the schoolmaster Pat McNamara's so good |
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as to write these words down. |
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Your brothers have all gone to find work in England, |
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the house is so empty and sad |
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The crop of potatoes is sorely infected, |
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a third to a half of them bad. |
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And your sister Brigid and Patrick O'Donnell |
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are going to be married in June. |
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Your mother says not to work on the railroad |
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and be sure to come on home soon. |
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Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 70, dear and loving son John |
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Hello to your Mrs and to your 4 children, |
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may they grow healthy and strong. |
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Michael has got in a wee bit of trouble, |
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I guess that he never will learn. |
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Because of the dampness there's no turf to speak of |
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and now we have nothing to burn. |
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And Brigid is happy, you named a child for her |
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and now she's got six of her own. |
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You say you found work, but you don't say |
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what kind or when you will be coming home. |
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Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 80, dear Michael and John, my sons |
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I'm sorry to give you the very sad news |
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that your dear old mother has gone. |
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We buried her down at the church in Kilkelly, |
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your brothers and Brigid were there. |
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You don't have to worry, she died very quickly, |
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remember her in your prayers. |
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And it's so good to hear that Michael's returning, |
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with money he's sure to buy land |
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For the crop has been poor and the people |
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are selling at any price that they can. |
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Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 90, my dear and loving son John |
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I guess that I must be close on to eighty, |
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it's thirty years since you're gone. |
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Because of all of the money you send me, |
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I'm still living out on my own. |
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Michael has built himself a fine house |
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and Brigid's daughters have grown. |
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Thank you for sending your family picture, |
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they're lovely young women and men. |
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You say that you might even come for a visit, |
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what joy to see you again. |
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Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 92, my dear brother John |
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I'm sorry that I didn't write sooner to tell you that father passed on. |
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He was living with Brigid, she says he was cheerful |
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and healthy right down to the end. |
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Ah, you should have seen him play with |
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the grandchildren of Pat McNamara, your friend. |
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And we buried him alongside of mother, |
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down at the Kilkelly churchyard. |
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He was a strong and a feisty old man, |
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considering his life was so hard. |
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And it's funny the way he kept talking about you, |
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he called for you in the end. |
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Oh, why don't you think about coming to visit, |
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we'd all love to see you again. |