Skibbereen

Oh father dear, well I've often heard you speak of Erin´s Isle Her lofty scenes, her valleys green, her mountains rude and wild They say it is a lovely land wherein a prince might d´well Oh why did you abondon it? The reason to me tell Oh son, I loved my native land with energy and pride Till a blight came over all my crops, my sheep, my cattle died My rent and taxes were to high, I could not them redeem And that's the cruel reason that I'd left old Skibbereen Oh and well do I remember, son, that bleak December day When the sheriff and the landlord came to drive us all away They set my cottage roof on fire with cursed English spleen And that's another reason that I'd left old Skibbereen Oh Your mother too, God rest her soul, lay on the snowy ground She'd fainted in her anguish saw the desolation 'round She never rose but passed away from life to immortal dream And found a quiet grave, me boy, in dear old Skibbereen Oh father dear, well the day might come when in answer to the call Each Irish men would feeling strong will rally one and all And I'll be the man to lead the band beneath the flag of green And loud and high well you'll hear the cry, Revenge for Skibbereen!