1.I'll Tell Me Ma
Lyricist：Traditional
I'll tell me ma when I get home
The boys won't leave the girls alone
Pulled me hair, stole me comb
But that's all right till I go home
She is handsome, she is pretty
She is the Belle of Dublin city
She is a courtin' a one two three
Pray can you tell me who is she
Albert Mooney says he loves her
All the boys are fightin' for her
Knock at the door and ring at the bell
And oh, me true love, are you well
Out she comes, white as snow
Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes
Old Johnny Morrissey says she'll die
If she doesn't get the fella with the roving eye
Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high
And the snow come travellin' through the sky
She's as sweet as apple pie
She'll get her own lad by and by
When she gets a lad of her own
She won't tell her ma when she gets home
Let them all come as they will
For it's Albert Mooney she loves still
2.Finnegan's Wake
Lyricist：Traditional
Tim Finnegan lived on Watling Street
A gentle Irishman, mighty odd
Had a love for both the rich and the sweet
And to rise in the world, he carried a hod
You see, he'd sort of a tippling way
With the love for the liquor, poor Tim was born
To help him on with his work each day
Had a drop of the craythur every morn'
Whack fol the da now dance to your partner
'Round the floor your trotters shake
Bend an ear to the truth I tell ya
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
One mornin' Tim got rather full
His head felt heavy which made him shake
Fell from the ladder and broke his skull
They carried him home, his corpse to wake
Rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed
A bottle of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head
Whack fol the da now dance to your partner
'Round the floor your trotters shake
Bend an ear to the truth I tell ya
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
His friends assembled at the wake
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch
First she brought in tea and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and brandy punch
Then Biddy O'Brien began to cry
Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see？
Tim, avoorneen, why did you die？
'Ah, fuck you', said Paddy McGee
Whack fol the da now dance to your partner
'Round the floor your trotters shake
Bend an ear to the truth I tell ya
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
Then Maggie O'Connor took up the cry
'O, Biddy', she said, 'You're wrong, I'm sure'
Biddy gave her a belt in the gob
And sent her sprawling on the floor
Then the war did soon engage
It was woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began
Whack fol the da now dance to your partner
'Round the floor your trotters shake
Bend an ear to the truth I tell ya
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
Whack fol the da now dance to your partner
'Round the floor your trotters shake
Bend an ear to the truth I tell ya
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head
When a bottle of Jameson flew at him
It missed him, landing on the bed
The liquor splattered over Tim
Tim revived, see how he rises
Fat fuck Finnegan rising from the bed
Crying, 'Will ya walup each girl and boy
Thunderin' Jaysus, do ya think I'm dead？'
Whack fol the da now dance to your partner
'Round the floor your trotters shake
Bend an ear to the truth I tell ya
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
Whack fol the da now dance to your partner
'Round the floor your trotters shake
Bend an ear to the truth I tell ya
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
3.The Irish Rover
Lyricist：Traditional
On the 4th of July, eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the cold bay of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand city hall in New York
She was a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore and aft
And, oh, how the wild winds drove her
She had several blasts, she had 27 masts
And we called her the Irish Rover
We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of stones
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides
We had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs
And seven million Celtic supporters
We had eight million bails of old nanny goats' tails
In the hold of the Irish Rover
There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee
There was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Charlie McGurk who was scared stiff of work
And a man from Westmeathe called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
And fightin' Bill Tracy from Dover
And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
And the ship lost its way in the fog
(Great fog)
And the whale of a crew was reduced down to two
Just myself and the Captain's old dog
Then the ship struck a rock, oh, Lord what a shock
The bulkhead turned right over
Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was drowned
And I'm the last of the Irish Rover
4.The Jolly Beggarman
Lyricist：Traditional
I am a little beggarman, a-begging I have been
For three score years in this little isle of green
I'm known along the Liffey, from the Basin to the Zoo
And everybody calls me by the name of Johnny Dhu
Of all the trades a-going, sure the begging is the best
For when a man is tired, he can sit him down and rest
He can beg for his dinner, he has nothing else to do
But to slip around the corner with his old rigadoo
I slept in a barn one night in Currabawn
A shocking wet night it was but I slept until the dawn
There was holes in the roof and the raindrops coming through
And the rats and the cats were a playing peek-a-boo
Who did I waken but the woman of the house
With her white spotted apron and her calico blouse
She began to frighten and I said boo
Sure, don't be afraid at all, it's only Johnny Dhu
I met a little girl while a-walkin' out one day
'Good morrow, little flaxen haired girl', I did say
'Good morrow, little beggarman and how do you do？'
With your rags and your tags and your auld rigadoo
I'll buy a pair of leggins and a collar and a tie
And a nice young lady, I'll go courting by and by
I'll buy a pair of goggles and I'll color them with blue
And an old fashioned lady, I will make her too
So all along the high road with my bag upon my back
Over the fields with my bulging heavy sack
With holes in my shoes and my toes a peeping through
Singing, skin, I'ma rink a doodle with my auld rigadoo
O, I must be going to bed for it's getting late at night
The fire is all raked and now 'tis out of light
For now you've heard the story of my auld rigadoo
So good and God be with you from auld Johnny Dhu
5.The Rattlin' Bog
Lyricist：Traditional
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
In that bog there was a tree
A rare tree, a rattlin' tree
The tree in the bog
In the bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
And on that tree there was a limb
A rare limb, a rattlin' limb
The limb on the tree and the tree in the bog
In the bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
And on that limb there was a branch
A rare branch, a rattlin' branch
The branch on the limb
The limb on the tree
And the tree in the bog
In the bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
And on that branch there was a twig
A rare twig, a rattlin' twig
The twig on the branch
The branch on the limb
The limb on the tree
And the tree in the bog
In the bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
And on that twig there was a nest
A rare nest, a rattlin' nest
The nest on the twig
The twig on the branch
The branch on the limb
The limb on the tree
And the tree in the bog
In the bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
And in that nest there was an egg
A rare egg, a rattlin' egg
The egg in the nest
The nest on the twig
The twig on the branch
The branch on the limb, the limb on the tree
And the tree in the bog
In the bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
And on that egg there was a bird
A rare bird, a rattlin' bird
The bird on the egg
The egg in the nest
The nest on the twig
The twig on the branch
The branch on the limb
The limb on the tree
And the tree in the bog
In the bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
And on that bird there was a feather
A rare feather, a rattlin' feather
The feather on the bird
The bird on the egg
The egg in the nest
The nest on the twig
The twig on the branch
The branch on the limb
The limb on the tree
And the tree in the bog
In the bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
And on that feather there was a flea
A rare flea, a rattlin' flea
The flea in the feather
The feather on the bird
The bird on the egg
The egg in the nest
The nest on the twig
The twig on the branch
The branch on the limb
The limb on the tree
And the tree in the bog
In the bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
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