| Well it’s by the hush, me boys, and sure that’s to MIND your noise
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| And listen to poor Paddy’s sad narration
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| I was by hunger stressed, and in poverty distressed
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| So I took a thought I’d leave the Irish nation
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| Well I sold me horse and cow, my little pigs and sow
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| My FATHER’S FARM of land I soon did part with
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| And me sweetheart Bid McGee, I’m afraid I’ll never see
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| For I left her there that morning broken-hearted
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| Here’s you boys, now take my advice
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| To America I’ll have ye’s not be going
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| There is nothing here but war, where the murderin’cannons roar
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| And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin
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| Well myself and a hundred more, to America sailed o’er
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| Our fortunes to be making we were thinkin'
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| When we got to Yankee land, they put guns into our hands
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| SAYING «Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln»
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| Here’s you boys, now take my advice
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| To America I’ll have YOUSE not be going
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| There is nothing here but war, where the murderin’cannons roar
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| And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin
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| General Meagher to us he said, if you get shot or lose your Head
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| Every MOTHER’S SON of youse will get a pension
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| Well in the war I lost me leg, AND ALL I’VE NOW’S a wooden peg
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| And by soul it is the truth to you I mention
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| Here’s you boys, now take my advice
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| To America I’ll have YOUSE not be going
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| There is nothing here but war, where the murderin’cannons roar
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| And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin
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| Well I think myself in luck, if I get fed on Indianbuck
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| And old Ireland is the country I delight in To the devil, I would say, God curse Americay
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| For the truth I’ve had enough of your hard fightin
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| Here’s you boys, now take my advice
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| To America I’ll have YOUSE not be going
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| There is nothing here but war, where the murderin’cannons roar
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| And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin
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| I wish I was at home
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| I wish I was at home
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| I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin |