Friday, January 12, 2007

Poguetry Friday

Lyrics from Young Ned of the Hill
by by Ron Kavana and Pogues member Terry Woods
and sung by the Pogues

A curse upon you Oliver Cromwell
You who raped our motherland
I hope you're rotting down in Hell
For the horrors that you sent
To our misfortunate forefathers
Whom you robbed of their birthright
"To hell or Connaught" may you burn in hell tonight

For the rest of the song, go here.


Tyler Rousseau said...

I've always liked their political rant...

Come hail or rain or wind or snow
I'm not going out to Flanders oh
There's fighting in Dublin to be done,
Let their Seargents and their Commanders go.
Let English men fight English wars, it's time they nearly started oh

Liz B said...

well, if we're going to go full on political:

There were six men in Birmingham
In Guildford there's four
That were picked up and tortured
And framed by the law
And the filth got promotion
But they're still doing time
For being Irish in the wrong place
And at the wrong time
In Ireland they'll put you away in the maze
In England they'll keep you for seven long days
God help you if ever you're caught on these shores
The coppers need someone
And they walk through that door