Songs

Danny Boy

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling

From glen to glen, and down the mountain side

The summer's gone, and all the roses falling

It's you, it's you must go and I must bide.

But come ye back when summer's in the meadow

Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow

It's I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow

Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

But when ye come, and all the flowers are dying

If I am dead, as dead I well may be

Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying

And kneel and say an ave there for me.

And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me

And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be

For you will bend and tell me that you love me

And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.

Third Verse:

as performed by John Corr at the Famine Memorial fundraiser.

But if I live, and should you die for Ireland

let not your dying thoughts be just of me

But say a prayer to god to for our dear sire land

I know she'll hear and help to set her free

And I will take your pike and place my dearest

And strike a blow though weak the blow may be

Twill help the cause to which your heart was nearest

Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

Fields of Athenry

By a lonely prison wall, I heard a young girl calling

"Michael, they have taken you away,

For you stole Trevelyan's corn,

So the young might see the morn.

Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay."

CHORUS

Low lie the fields of Athenry

Where once we watched the small free birds fly

Our love was on the wing

We had dreams and songs to sing

It's so lonely round the fields of Athenry.

By a lonely prison wall, I heard a young man calling

"Nothing matters, Mary, when you're free

Against the famine and the crown,

I rebelled, they cut me down.

Now you must raise our child with dignity."

CHORUS

By a lonely harbor wall, she watched the last star fall

As the prison ship sailed out against the sky

Sure she'll wait and hope and pray for her love in Botany Bay

It's so lonely round the fields of Athenry.

CHORUS

The Ballad of John Gordon

Words and music by Tom Lanigan

I came to Rhode Island, not in search of fame,

But the last man executed there, is how they know my name.

My brother called me over, on a dreary Irish day,

So I could know the pleasure, of honest work and pay.

But there were other plans for me, things that I just couldn't see.

The power and the bigotry as at large.

I soon found out that I was framed,

They said I killed a man they named

..Amasa, and his brother let the charge.

Still it's so unclear to me. I know he had some words to speak,

about my brother's store / where his workers went,

to take the edge off with a drink.

Amasa didn't like to think / of working men / with power in their minds,

and on a broken New Year's Eve, Amasa met his destiny

Fingers pointed right at me / and sent me to my grave.

And so it was they did decide / to march me out and hang me high,

"Someone has to pay," they cried, "John Gordon you must die."

It would take more than a century / for righteous men to pardon me,

But no one saw my innocence in time.

In the court room where I met my fate,

they cleared my name / though far too late,

I'll thank you all / on the other side.

I just hope that you will learn from me

and use the law with dignity

And never let emotions run the way,

For when dealing with the lives of men

The facts must speak / and only then

will we escape the tragedies we make.

Can we escape the tragedies we make?

We must escape the tragedies we make.

Copyright 10/01/11

Tom Lanigan,

Warwick, Rhode Island