From the recording Taproom
Well it’s by the hush, me boys, and sure that’s to hold your noise
And listen to poor Paddy’s sad narration
I was by hunger stressed, and in poverty distressed
So I took a thought I’d leave the Irish nation.
Here’s you boys, now take my advice
To America I’ll have ye’s not be coming
There is nothing here but war, where the murderin’ cannons roar
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin.
Well I sold me horse and cow, my little pigs and sow
My little plot of land I soon did part with
And my sweetheart Bid McGee, I’m afraid I’ll never see
For I left her there that morning broken-hearted.
Well meself and a hundred more, to America sailed o’er
Our fortunes to be made we were thinkin’
When we got to Yankee land, they put a gun into our hands
Saying “Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln.”
General Meagher to us he said, if you get shot or lose your head
Every murdered soul of you’se will get a pension
Well meself I lost me leg, they gave me a wooden peg
And by God it is the truth to you I mention.
Well I think meself in luck, to be fed on Indianbuck
And old Ireland is the country I delight in
With the devil, I do say, it’s curse Americay
For I think I’ve had enough of your hard fightin.