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Well it's by the hush, me boys, and sure that's to hold your noise |
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And listen to poor Paddy's sad narration |
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I was by hunger pressed, and in poverty distressed |
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So I took a thought I'd leave the Irish nation |
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Well I sold me ass and cow, my little pigs and sow |
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My little plot of land I soon did part with |
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And me sweetheart Bid McGee, I'm afraid I'll never see |
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For I left her there that morning broken-hearted |
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Here's to you boys, now take my advice |
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To America I'll have ye's not be going |
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There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar |
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And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin |
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Well meself and a hundred more, to America sailed o'er |
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Our fortunes to be made [sic] we were thinkin' |
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When we got to Yankee land, they shoved a gun into our hands |
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Saying "Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln" |
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Well I think meself in luck, if I get fed on Indian buck |
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And old Ireland is the country I delight in |
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With the devil, I do say, it's curse Americay |
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For I think I've had enough of your hard fightin' |
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Here's to you boys, now take my advice |
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To America I'll have ye's not be going |
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There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar |
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And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin |
