Lyrics:
sent
To our misfortunate forefathers
Whom you robbed of their birthright
"To hell or Connaught" may you burn in hell tonight
Of one such man
you robbed of their birthright
"To hell or Connaught" may you burn in hell tonight
Of one such man I'd like to speak a rapparee by name and deed
His
sent
To our misfortunate forefathers
Whom you robbed of their birthright
"To hell or Connaught" may you burn in hell tonight
Of one such man
sent
To our misfortunate forefathers
Whom you robbed of their birthright
"To hell or Connaught" may you burn in hell tonight
Of one such man
Whom you robbed of their birthright
To hell or Connaught may you burn in hell tonight
Of one such man I'd like to speak
A rapparee by name and deed
His
Chulainn as a man as a man as a man Standing alone against Connaught's might One against all the eternal fight Champions they came Champions they did fall
Something crossed me mind
When I looked behind
No bundle I could find
Upon me stick a wobbling
Inquiring after the rogue
Said me Connaught Brogue
Was
upon me stick a-wobblin'
'Quiring after the rogue, said me Connaught brogue
It wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three
mind, when I looked behind,
No bundle I could find, upon me stick a wobblin. Enquiring after the rogue,
Said me Connaught brogue, was not much in vogue,
in the county made such a stir on it
They forced Bob to flee to the province of Connaught;
Took with him his wife and his fixins, to boot,
And along
upon it,
And Bob had to fly to the province of Connaught.
He fled with his wife and his fixings to boot,
And along with the latter his Old Orange
upon me stick a-wobblin'
'Quiring after the rogue, said me Connaught brogue
It wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three
disaster and woe,
The spirit of old is still with us
That never would bend to the foe.
And Connaught is ready whenever
The loud rolling tuck of the drum
disaster and woe,
The spirit of old is still with us
That never would bend to the foe.
And Connaught is ready whenever
The loud rolling tuck of the drum
the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue
Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five,
Hunt the Hare and turn her down
upon it,
And Bob had to fly to the province of Connaught.
He fled with his wife and his fixings to boot,
And along with the latter his Old Orange
upon me stick a-wobblin'
'Quiring after the rogue, said me Connaught brogue
It wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three
disaster and woe,
The spirit of old is still with us
That never would bend to the foe.
And Connaught is ready whenever
The loud rolling tuck of the drum
locality.
Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind,
No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin'
Enquiring for the rogue, they said me Connaught
that you sent
To our misfortunate forefathers
Whom you robbed of their birthright
"To hell or Connaught," may you burn in hell tonight
Of one
in the county made such a stir on it
They forced Bob to flee to the province of Connaught;
Took with him his wife and his fixins, to boot,
And along
said me Connaught brogue
Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin
One two three four five
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
Me connaught brogue wasn't much in-vogue on the rocky road
To Dublin
From there I got away, me spirits never failing landed on the
Quay just
the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue
Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five,
Hunt the Hare and turn her down
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