Dubliners Skibbereen
Oh father dear, I oft-times hear you speak of Erin's
isle
Her lofty hills, her valleys green, her mountains rude
and wild
They say she is a lovely land wherein a saint might
dwell
So why did you abandon her, the reason to me tell.
Oh son, I loved my native land with energy and pride
Till a blight came o'er the praties; my sheep, my
cattle died
My rent and taxes went unpaid, I could not them redeem
And that's the cruel reason why I left old Skibbereen.
Oh well do I remember that bleak December day
The landlord and the sheriff came to take us all away
They set my roof on fire with their cursed English
spleen
I heaved a sigh and bade goodbye to dear old
Skibbereen.
Your mother too, God rest her soul, fell on the stony
ground
She fainted in her anguish seeing desolation 'round
She never rose but passed away from life to immortal
dream
She found a quiet grave, me boy, in dear old
Skibbereen.
And you were only two years old and feeble was your
frame
I could not leave you with my friends for you bore your
father's name
I wrapped you in my car in the dead of night unseen
I heaved a sigh and bade goodbye to dear old
Skibbereen.
Oh father dear, the day will come when in answer to the
call
All Irish men of freedom stern will rally one and all
I'll be the man to lead the band beneath the flag of
green
And loud and clear we'll raise the cheer, Revenge for
Skibbereen!
