Lift Mac Cahir Og your face, brooding o'er the old disgrace That black Fitzwilliam stormed your place and drove you to the Fern. Gray said victory was sure, soon the firebrand he'd secure Until he met at Glenmalure, Feach Mac Hugh O'Byrne Curse and swear, Lord Kildare, Feach will do what Feach will dare Now Fitzwilliam have a care, fallen is your star low Up with halbert, out with sword, on we go for by the Lord Feach Mac Hugh has given his word: Follow me up to Carlow From Tassagart ____to Clonmore flows a stream of Saxon Gore Great is Rory Og O'More at sending loons to Hades. White is sick and Lane is fled, now for black Fitzwilliams head We'll send it over, dripping red, to Liza and her ladies See the swords of Glen Imayle flashing o'er the English Pale See all the children of the Gael, beneath O'Byrne's banners Rooster of the fighting stock, would you let an Saxon cock Crow out upon an Irish rock, fly up and teach him manners
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Top songs from Young Dubliners
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