Join the british army

When I was young I had a twist of punching babies with me fist
And I thought I would enlist and join the british army.

Too ra loo ra loo ra loo, they’re looking for monkeys up in the zoo
If I had a face like you, I would join the British army.

When I was young I used to be as fine a man as ever you’d see;
The Prince of Wales, he said to me, “Come and join the British army.”

Sarah Camdon baked a cake; it was all for poor old Slattery’s sake.
I threw meself into the lake, pretending I was balmy.

Corporal Duff’s got such a drought, just give him a couple of jars of stout;
He’ll kill the enemy with his mouth and save the British Army.
Too ra loo ra loo ra loo, Me curse is on the Labour crew;
They took your darling boy from you to join the British army.

Captain Heeley went away and his wife got in the family way,
And all the words that she would say was “Blame the British Army.”
Too ra loo ra loo ra loo, I’ve made me mind up what to do
I’ll work my ticket home to you and leave the British army

The Parting Glass

Of all the money that ere I had, I spent it in good company.
And of all the harm that ere I’ve done, alas was done to none but me.
And all I’ve done for want of wit, to memory now I cannot recall.
So fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all.

Of all the comrades that ere I had, they’re sorry for my going away,
And of all the sweethearts that ere I had , they wish me one more day to stay,
But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise while you should not,
I will gently rise and I’ll softly call, “Goodnight and joy be with you all!”

Oh, if I had money enough to spend and leisure time to sit awhile
There is a fair maid in this town that sorely has my heart beguiled
Her rosey cheeks and ruby lips, she alone has my heart in thrall.
So fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all.

Mountain dew

Let the grasses grow
and the waters flow in a free and easy way
But give me enough of the rare old stuff
that’s made near Galway Bay
Come gangers all from Donegal,
Sligo and Leitrim too
Oh, we’ll give ’em a slip
and we’ll take a sip of the rare old mountain dew

thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum
thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey
thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum
thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey

There’s a neat little still at the foot of the hill,
where the smoke curls up to the sky
By a whiff of the smell you can plainly tell,
that there’s poitín, boys, close by
For it fills the air with a perfume rare,
and betwixt both me and you
As home we roll, we can drink a bowl,
or a bucketful of mountain dew

thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum
thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey
thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum
thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey

Now learned men as use the pen,
have writ the praises high
Of the sweet poitín from Ireland green,
distilled from wheat and rye
Away with yer pills, it’ll cure all ills,
be ye Pagan, Christian or Jew
So take off your coat
and grease your throat with a bucketful of mountain dew

come out you black and tans:

was born on a Dublin street where the Royal drums do beat
And the loving English feet they tramped all over us,
And each and every night when me father’d come home tight
He’d invite the neighbors outside with this chorus:

Oh, come out you black and tans,
Come out and fight me like a man
Show your wives how you won medals down in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA made you run like hell away,
From the green and lovely lanes in Killashandra.

Come let me hear you tell
How you slammed the great Pernell,
When you fought them well and truly persecuted,
Where are the smears and jeers
That you bravely let us hear
When our heroes of sixteen were executed.

Come tell us how you slew
Those brave Arabs two by two
Like the Zulus they had spears and bows and arrows,
How you bravely slew each one
With your sixteen pounder gun
And you frightened them poor natives to their marrow.

The day is coming fast
And the time is here at last,
When each yeoman will be cast aside before us,
And if there be a need
Sure my kids wil sing, “Godspeed!”
With a verse or two of Steven Beehan’s chorus.