| I crossed the River Liffey bridge and went on up the town
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| By Coffey’s clock twas plain to see how time was moving on
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| Past Neeson’s and John Johnson’s, Tommy Tougher’s and Keadeen
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| How’s it going said Paddy Dolan, game ball said Skinner Behan
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| The morning hooter called the workers to the factory line
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| To weave the bales of sisal into rope and binder twine
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| Beneath the weeping ash I heard Jack Lawlor’s anvil ring
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| Back down the town in Cummins’s heard John McCormack Sing
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| From Hawkfield and Kilbelin, Chinatown and Rosy’s Lane
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| Scattered round the world we dreamt of coming home again
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| From the Rocks of Sydney Harbour, the Bronx and Birmingham
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| To the Sandy Hills, the Seven Springs, The waters of the Fen
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| Walking down the Moorefield Road my father tellin me
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| Of the Corbally eviction back in 1953
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| The story of Clongorey, the hunger and despair
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| Gone but not forgotten in the history of Kildare
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| To stand upon the Gibbet Rath I walked along the Plains
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| By Donnelly’s Hollow heard the keening of the Curragh Wrens
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| Black &Tans in The Barracks as young rebels crossed the fields
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| From the back lanes and the boreens came Sheahans and O’Neills
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| Here comes Darky Prendergast and Mrs Charlie Weld
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| The Halfords and The Edderys, the Brabazons and the Bells
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| The Owners and The Trainers, stallions and brood mares
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| Fillies, colts and yearlings on the gallops of Kildare
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| The Roo, The Goo and Gandy, every nickname brings a smile
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| Tell Fid, Conks and Corney I’ll be home in a little while
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| As the sun goes down behind the Town we’ll gather on the strand
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| Dance to Jimmy Dunny’s orchestra, Tom Wilmot’s Ceili band |