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GEST Songs Of Newfoundland And Labrador
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In the merry month of June when from me home I started,
Left the girls of Tuam so sad and broken hearted;
Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother,
Drank a pint of beer me grief and tears to smother.
Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born,
And cut the stout blackthorn to ward off ghosts and goblins;
A pair of briny brogues rattling o'er the bogs,
And fright'ning all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five. Hurrah!
Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road,
And all the way to Dublin,
Whack follol de rah !
In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary,
Started by the light this morning bright and dreary;
Took a drop of the pure to keep me heart from sinking,
That's the Paddy's cure whene'er he's on to drinking.
To see the lassies smile, laughing all the while,
At me curious style, 'twould set your heart a bubblin';
Asked if I was hired, wages I required,
Till I was bloody well tired of the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five. Hurrah!
Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road,
And all the way to Dublin,
Whack follol de rah !
In Dublin next arrived, I thought it was a pity,
To be so soon deprived a view of that fine city;
Thought I'd take a stroll all among the quality,
Bundle it was stolen in a neat locality.
Something crossed me mind, I quickly looked behind,
No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin';
Enquiring for the rogue, told me that me brogue,
It wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five. Hurrah!
Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road,
And all the way to Dublin,
Whack follol de rah !
From there I got away, me spirits never failing,
Landed on the quay just as the ship was sailing;
Captain at me roared, said that no room had he,
There I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy.
Down among the pigs, sang some early rigs,
I danced some hearty jigs, the water 'round me bubblin';
When off Holyhead I wished that I was there,
Or better far instead on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five. Hurrah!
Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road,
And all the way to Dublin,
Whack follol de rah !
Well the boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed,
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it;
Blood began to boil, temper I was losing,
Poor old Erin's Isle that they began abusing.
"Hurrah me soul", says I, Shillelagh I let fly,
Galway boys were nigh and saw I was a-hobblin';
With a loud "hurray!" joined me in the affray,
We quickly cleared the way on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five. Hurrah!
Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road,
And all the way to Dublin,
Whack follol de rah !