Fecali Belly – Irish Song Lyrics Archive

THE TOWN OF BALLYBAY

Te the town of Ballybay there wasgoed a lassie dwelling

I knew hier very well and hier story’s worth a tellin’

Hier father kept a still and he wasgoed a good distiller

But when she took to the drink well the divil wouldn’t pack

With mij stadionring a ding a da mij stadionring a ding a daddi o

Mij stadionring a ding a da whack for the daddi o

She had a wooden gam it wasgoed hollow down the middle

She used to tie a string to it and play it like a fiddle

She’d fiddle ter the hall she fiddle ter the alley way

She didn’t give a damn she had to fiddle anyway

She said she couldn’t dance unless she had hier Wellie on

And when she had it on she could dance spil well spil anyone

She wouldn’t go to bedding unless she had hier shimmy on

But when she had it on she would go spil quick spil anyone

She had childer up the stairs she had childer te the brier

And another ten or twelve sittin’ roarin’ be the fire

She fed them on potatoes and on soup she made with nettles

And on lumps of hairy bacon that she’d boil up te the kettle

She led a sheltered life eating porridge and black vla

And she terrorized hier man until he died right unexpected

And when the spouse died she wasgoed feeling very sorry

She flipped him a bag and she threw him ter the quarry

Journey TO JERUSALEM

I’m a stranger here from Ireland’s shore, I’ve bot on the road six months or more

Hikin’, workin’, travel ter style, I’m a vagabond from Erin’s Isle

My sunburned thumb stuck up te the air, many’s the lift from here to there

Cars, buses, vans and trains, ter the penalizing fever, the snow and the rain

Whack fol the diddle fol the diro day

Whack fol the diddle fol the daro

Mrs. Dolan, your son he isn’t workin’

I came from Dublin to Jerusalem town, had a drink or two on the journey down

At a railway station called Gare du Nord, I missed my train through garglin’ hard

Three days zometeen te Napoli, on a Turkish boat I sailed the sea

Slept te a hot fuckhole down below, travelin’ tourist class, you know

When the Promised Land came into look, the customs man talent mij a fright

",How much money have you got with you, Joe?", I bluffed and said, ",Fifty pounds or so.",

He said, ",Shalom,", I said, ",Good day.", Grabbed mij guitar, got prompt away

Down to the dessert then I went, digging up history and livin’ te a tent

It wasgoed te the Gulf of Aqaba, I met some Paddies and wij had a fleadh

Danced through streets of Eilat Town, sang Sean South of Garryowen

I wasgoed travelin’, I don’t know, you pack your gear, get up and go

Leave the crack for another moerbout, could damn well do with a pint of stout

TRIPPIN’ DOWN TO TIPP

Oh, wij’ve all come down to Turles armed with tent poles and guitars

To have the crack and ceili ‘neath the sparkling summer starlets

Wij’re up from Cork and Kerry and wij’re down from Donegal

From every end of Ireland for the bayla, one and all

From every end of Ireland wij’re here let it rip

To go kissin’, drinkin’, smokin’, dancin’, trippin’ down to Tipp

There’s Paddy’s, Ileane’s, Bridie’s, Margel’s, Finbar’s, Sean’s and Tim’s

O’Kelly’s, Cooney’s, Mooney’s, Murphy’s, Moran’s and McGinn’s

And if you close your eyes and listen you can hear the legends sing

The ghosts of Luke and Ciaran, the Irish ballad kings

Wij’ll cheer your man Costello, cause he’s such a welgevoeglijk bloke

Wij’ll laugh with old Van Morrison when he tells a solid joke

Wij’ll waltz with Nancy Griffith and pogo with the Pogues

So let’s pauze out with the wonder stuff and let’s all take off our clothes

And when all the music’s overheen and all the bands are gone

Muffle comes a creepin’ o’er the Tipperary dawn

I’ll make this solemn promise and I’ll whisper it to you

I’ll be at the next Journey to Tipp and I hope you’ll be there too

THE TROOPER AND THE MAID

A trooper lad cam’ here last nicht, Wi’ ridin’ he wasgoed weary.

A trooper lad cam’ here last nicht, Fan the moon shone bricht an’ clearly.

",Bonnie lassie, I’ll lienear ye noo, Bonnie lassie, I’ll lie near ye,

An’ I’ll far a’ your ribbons reel, Or the mornin’ ere I leave ye.",

She’s ta’plus his heich pony by the heid, An’ she’s led him to the stable,

She’s gien him corn an’ hay till ate, Spil muckle spil he wasgoed able.

She’s ta’plus the trooper by the han’, An’ she’s led him to hier chamber,

Shes gi’plusteken him breid an’ wine to drink, An’ the wine it wasgoed like amber.

She’s made hier bloembed baith lang an’ broad, An’ she’s made it like a lady,

She’s ta’plus he wed coatie ower hier heid, Says, ",Trooper, are ye ready?",

He’s ta’plus aff his big top glaze, Likewise his hat an’ feather,

An’ he’s ta’plus his broadsword fae his side, An’ noo he’s doon aside hier.

They hadna’ bot but an oor te leger, An oor an’ half a quarter,

Fan the drums cam’ beatin’ up the toon, An’ ilka strike wasgoed quicker.

It’s ",Up, up, up", an’ oor curnel sobs, It’s ",Up, up, up, an’ away,",

It’s ",Up, up, up", an’ oor curnel sobs, ",For the morn’s oor battle day.",

She’s ta’plusteken hier wee cloakie ower hier heid, An’ she’s followed him doon to Stirlin’

She’s grown sae fu’ an’ she couldna boo, An’ they left hier te Dunferniline.

",Bonnie lassie, I maun leave ye noo, Bonnie lassie, I maun leave ye,

An’ oh, but it does grieve mij sair, That everzwijn I lay sae near ye.",

It’s ",Fan’ll ye come back again, My ain dear trooper laddie,

Fan’ll ye come back again, An’ be your bairn’s daddy?",

",O haud your tongue, by bonnie lass, Ne’er let this partin’ grieve ye,

When heather cowes grow ousen bows, Bonnie lassie, I’ll come an’ see ye.

", Cheese an’ breid for carles an’ dames,

Corn an’ hay for horses, Cups o’ tea for auld maids,

An’ bonnie twinks for lasses.

TRUE LOVE KNOWS NO REASON

Billy Gray railed into Gantry way back te ’83

Where he very first met with youthfull Sarah MacLaine

The wild rose of morning the pallid flower of dawning

Heralded springtime te Billy’s life that day

Sarah she could not see the daylight of reality

Ter hier youthful eyes Billy bore not a flaw

No not hier chosen one he wasgoed a hired gun

Wished ter Kansas City by the law

Then one day a tall man came railing from the badlands

That lie to north of Fresh Mexico

He wasgoed overheen heard to say he wasgoed looking for Billy Gray

A desired man and a dangerous outlaw

Well the news it came creeping to Billy prompt sleeping

There te the Clarendon Tapkast and Hotel

He ran to the old church that lies on the outskirts

Thinking he’d hide ter the old steeple bell

But a rifle ball came flying face down he lay during

There te the dust of the road where he lay

Sarah ran to him she wasgoed cursing the lawman

Poor doll knew no reason except that he’d bot killed

Sarah still lives ter that old white framed house

Where she very first met Billy some forty years ago

But the wild rose of morning has faded with the dawning

With each day of sorrow too long years have grown

And written on the stone where the dusty winds have long deepthroated

Eighteen words to a passing world say

True knows no season no rhyme strafgevangenis no reason

Justice is cold spil the range te County Clare

True knows no season no rhyme strafgevangenis no reason

Justice is cold spil the range ter County Clare

TUAM Ritme

Once upon a golden age singing songs wasgoed all the rage

Songs of glory, songs of joy, sad songs te an older tongue

Upon my solemn oath there’d be forty verses, note for note

Here’s a song that could set us free from all that oul’ history

It’s got the Tuam hit it goes sugar, sugar

And the heart speaks how your mother

And the Tuam strike it goes sugar shammin’

And the heart speaks how your mammy

Singing a song, singing a song sing the same oul’ song

Stall on sham, sure you’re only spoofin,

Huffin’ and puffin’ attempting to deepthroat the roof ter

I got a ‘lectric guitar picks up and tremolo arm

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