| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 2:23 | 
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If I should fall from grace with god Where no doctor can relieve me If I'm buried 'neath the sod But the angels won't receive me Let me go boys Let me go boys Let me go down in the mud Where the rivers all run dry This land was always ours Was the proud land of our fathers It belongs to us and them Not to any of the others Let them go boys Let them go boys Let them go down in the mud Where the rivers all run dry Bury me at sea Where no murdered ghost can haunt me If I rock upon the waves No corpse can lie upon me It's coming up three boys Keeps coming up three boys Let them go down in the mud Where the rivers all run dry If I should fall from grace with god Where no doctor can relieve me If I'm buried 'neath the sod And still the angels won't receive me Let me go boys Let me go boys Let me go down in the mud Where the rivers all run dry |
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| 2. |
| 3:27 |
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> I come old friend from Hell tonight
Across the rotting sea Nor the nails of the cross Nor the blood of Christ Can bring you help this eve The dead have come to claim a debt from thee They stand outside your door Four score and three Did you keep a watch for the dead man's wind Did you see the woman with the comb in her hand Wailing away on the wall on the strand As you danced to the Turkish song of the damned You remember when the ship went down You left me on the deck The captain's corpse jumped up And threw his arms around my neck For all these years I've had him on my back This debt cannot be paid with all your jack And as I sit and talk to you I see your face go white This shadow hanging over me Is no trick of the light The spectre on my back will soon be free The dead have come to claim a debt from thee |
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| 3. |
| 2:47 |
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> Thanks and praises
Thanks to Jesus I bet on the Bottle of Smoke I went to hell And to the races To bet on the Bottle of Smoke The day being clear The sky being bright He came up on the left Like a streak of light Like a drunken fuck On a Saturday night Up came the Bottle of Smoke Twenty fucking five to one Me gambling days are done I bet on a horse called the Bottle of Smoke And my horse won Stewards inquiries Swift and fiery I had the Bottle of Smoke Inquisitions and suppositions I had the Bottle of Smoke Fuck the stewards A trip to Lourdes Might give the old fuckers The power of sight Screaming springers and stoppers And call out coppers But the money still gleams in my hand like a light Bookies cursing Cars reversing I had the Bottle of Smoke Glasses steaming Vessels bursting I had the Bottle of Smoke Slip a fifty to the wife And for each brat a crisp new five To give me a break on a Saturday night When I had the Bottle of Smoke Priests and maidens Drunk as pagans They had the Bottle of Smoke Sins forgiven and celebrations They had the Bottle of Smoke Fuck the Yanks And drink their wives The moon is clear The sky is bright I'm happy as the horses shite Up came the Bottle of Smoke |
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| 4. |
| 4:35 |
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It was Christmas Eve babe In the drunk tank An old man said to me, won't see another one And then he sang a song The Rare Old Mountain Dew And I turned my face away And dreamed about you Got on a lucky one Came in eighteen to one I've got a feeling This year's for me and you So happy Christmas I love you baby I can see a better time When all our dreams come true They've got cars Big as bars They've got rivers of gold But the wind goes right through you It's no place for the old When you first took my hand On a cold Christmas Eve You promised me Broadway was waiting for me You were handsome You were pretty Queen of New York City When the band finished playing They howled out for more Sinatra was swinging All the drunks they were singing We kissed on the corner Then danced through the night The boys of the NYPD choir Were singing 'Galway Bay' And the bells were ringing Out for Christmas day You're a bum You're a punk You're an old slut on junk Living there almost dead on a drip In that bed You scum bag You maggot You cheap lousy faggot Happy Christmas your arse I pray God It's our last I could have been someone So could anyone You took my dreams From me when I first found you I kept them with me babe I put them with my own Can't make it all alone I've built my dreams around you |
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| 5. |
| 2:51 | 
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| 6. |
| 5:29 |
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> The island it is silent now
But the ghosts still haunt the waves And the torch lights up a famished man Who fortune could not save Did you work upon the railroad Did you rid the streets of crime Were your dollars from the white house Were they from the five and dime Did the old songs taunt or cheer you And did they still make you cry Did you count the months and years Or did your teardrops quickly dry Ah, no, says he, 'twas not to be On a coffin ship I came here And I never even got so far That they could change my name Thousands are sailing Across the western ocean To a land of opportunity That some of them will never see Fortune prevailing Across the western ocean Their bellies full Their spirits free They'll break the chains of poverty And they'll dance In manhattan's desert twilight In the death of afternoon We stepped hand in hand on broadway Like the first man on the moon And ""the blackbird"" broke the silence As you whistled it so sweet And in brendan behan's footsteps I danced up and down the street Then we said goodnight to broadway Giving it our best regards Tipped our hats to mister cohen Dear old times square's favorite bard Then we raised a glass to jfk And a dozen more besides When I got back to my empty room I suppose I must have cried Thousands are sailing Again across the ocean Where the hand of opportunity Draws tickets in a lottery Postcards we're mailing Of sky-blue skies and oceans From rooms the daylight never sees Where lights don't glow on christmas trees But we dance to the music And we dance Thousands are sailing Across the western ocean Where the hand of opportunity Draws tickets in a lottery Where e'er we go, we celebrate The land that makes us refugees From fear of priests with empty plates From guilt and weeping effigies And we dance |
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| 7. |
| 4:13 |
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I am Francisco Vasquez Garcia I am welcome to Almeria We have sin gas and con leche We have fiesta and feria We have the song of the chochona We have brandy and half corona And Leonardo and his accordione And calamari and macaroni Come all you rambling boys of pleasure And ladies of easy leisure We must say Adios! until we see Almeria once again There is a minstrel, there you see, And he stoppeth one in three He whispers in this one's ear "Will you kindly kill that doll for me" Now he has won chochona in the bingo All the town has watched this crazy gringo As he pulls off the doll's head laughing And miraldo! throws its body in the sea El vienticinco de agosto Abrio sus ojos Jaime Fearnley Pero el bebe cinquante Gin-campari Y se tendio para cerrarlos Y Costello el rey del America Y suntuosa Cait O Riordan Non rompere mes colliones Los gritos fuera de las casas |
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| 8. |
| 4:02 |
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| 9. |
| 4:39 |
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Oh farewell, you streets of sorrow
And farewell, you streets of pain I'll not return to feel more sorrow Nor to see more young men slain Through the last six years, I've lived through terror And in the darkened streets, the pain Oh, how I long to find some solace In my mind I curse the strain So farewell, you streets of sorrow And farewell, you streets of pain No, I'll not return to feel more sorrow Nor to see more young men slain 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 You'll be counting years, first five, then ten Growing old in a lonely hell 'Round the yard and the stinking cell From wall to wall and back again A curse on the judges, the coppers, and screws Who tortured the innocent, wrongly accused For the price of promotion and justice to sell May the judged be their judges when they rot down in hell You'll be counting years, first five, then ten Growing old in a lonely hell 'Round the yard and the lousy cell From wall to wall, then back again May the whores of the empire lie awake in their beds And sweat as they count out the sins on their heads While over in Ireland, eight more men lie dead Kicked down and shot in the back of the head You'll be counting years, first five, then ten Growing old in a freezing hell 'Round the yard and the lousy cell From wall to wall, then back again Counting years, first five, then ten Growing old in a lonely hell 'Round the yard and the lousy cell From wall to wall, then back again |
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| 10. |
| 3:32 |
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> As I walked down by the riverside
One evening in the spring Heard a long gone song From days gone by Blown in on the great North wind Though there is no lonesome corncrake's cry Of sorrow and delight You can hear the cars And the shouts from bars And the laughter and the fights May the ghosts that howled Round the house at night Never keep you from your sleep May they all sleep tight Down in hell tonight Or wherever they may be As I walked on with a heavy heart Then a stone danced on the tide And the song went on Though the lights were gone And the North wind gently sighed And an evening breeze coming from the East That kissed the riverside So I pray now child that you sleep tonight When you hear this lullaby May the wind that blows from haunted graves Never bring you misery May the angels bright Watch you tonight And keep you while you sleep |
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| 11. |
| 2:18 |
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> Sit down by the fire
And I'll tell you a story To send you away to your bed Of the things you hear creeping When everyone's sleeping And you wish you were out here instead It isn't the mice in the wall It isn't the wind in the well But each night they march Out of that hole in the wall Passing through on their way Out of hell They're the things that you see When you wake up and scream The cold things that follow you Down the boreen They live in the small ring of trees on the hill Up at the top of the field And they dance on the rain And they dance on the wind They tap on the window When no-one is in And if ever you see them Pretend that you're dead Or they'll bite off your head They'll rip out your liver And dance on your neck They dance on your head They dance on your chest They give you the cramp And the cholic for jest They're the things that you see When you wake up and scream The cold things that follow you Down the boreen They live in the small ring of trees on the hill Up at the top of the field They play on the wind They sing on the rain They dance on your eyes They dance in your brain Remember this place It is damp and it's cold The best place on earth But it's dark and it's old So lie near the wall And cover your head Good night and God bless, Now fuck off to bed |
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| 12. |
| 2:56 |
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> The last time I saw you was down at the greeks
There was whiskey on sunday and tears on our cheeks You sang me a song as pure as the breeze Blowing up the road to glenaveigh I sat for a while at the cross at finnoe Where young lovers would meet when the flowers were in bloom Heard the men coming home from the fair at shinrone Their hearts in tipperary wherever they go Take my hand, and dry your tears babe Take my hand, forget your fears babe There's no pain, there's no more sorrow They're all gone, gone in the years babe I sat for a while by the gap in the wall Found a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball Heard the cards being dealt, and the rosary called And a fiddle playing sean dun na ngall And the next time I see you we'll be down at the greeks There'll be whiskey on sunday and tears on our cheeks For it's stupid to laugh and it's useless to bawl About a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball So I walked as day was dawning Where small birds sang and leaves were falling Where we once watched the row boats landing By the broad majestic shannon |
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| 13. |
| 1:03 |
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The worms crawl in and the worms crawl out
The ones that go in are lean and thin The ones that come out are fat and stout Your eyes fall in and your teeth fall out Your brains come tumbling out of your snout Be merry, my friends, be merry |
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| 14. |
| 4:10 |
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| 15. |
| 4:10 |
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On the fourth of July eighteen hundred and six We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks For the grand city hall in New York 'Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft And oh, how the wild winds drove her. She'd got several blasts, she'd twenty-seven masts And we called her the Irish Rover. We had one million bales 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, Seven million barrels of porter. We had eight million bails of old nanny goats' tails, In the hold of the Irish Rover. There was awl Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute When the ladies lined up for his set He was tootin' with skill for each sparkling quadrille Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet With his sparse witty talk he was cock of the walk As he rolled the dames under and over They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance And he sailed in the Irish Rover There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee, There was Hogan from County Tyrone There was Jimmy McGurk who was scarred stiff of work And a man from Westmeath called Malone There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule And fighting Bill Tracey 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 it's way in a fog. And that whale of the crew was reduced down to two, Just meself and the captain's old dog. Then the ship struck a rock, oh Lord what a shock The bu |
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| 16. |
| 2:18 |
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| 17. |
| 3:41 |
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| 18. |
| 2:15 |
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| 19. |
| 3:28 |
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In South Australia I was born, heave away, haul away
In South Australia, 'round Cape Horn, we're bound for South Australia Haul away your rolling king, heave away, haul away Haul away, you'll hear me sing, we're bound for South Australia As I walked out one morning fair, heave away, haul away 'Twas there I met Miss Nancy Blair, we're bound for South Australia There's just one thing that's on my mind, heave away, haul away That's leaving Nancy Blair behind, we're bound for South Australia And as we wallop round Cape Horn, heave away, haul away You'll wish to God you've never been born, we're bound for South Australia In South Australia I was born, heave away, haul away In South Australia, 'round Cape Horn, we're bound for South Australia |
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