Skibbereen

	  		
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Oh father dear, well I've often heard you speak of Erin´s Isle 

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Her lofty scenes, her valleys green, her mountains rude and wild 

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They say it is a lovely land wherein a prince might d´well 

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Oh why did you abondon it? The reason to me tell 



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Oh son, I loved my native land with energy and pride 

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Till a blight came over all my crops, my sheep, my cattle died 

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My rent and taxes were to high, I could not them redeem 

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And that's the cruel reason that I'd left old Skibbereen 



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Oh and well do I remember, son, that bleak December day 

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When the sheriff and the landlord came to drive us all away 

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They set my cottage roof on fire with cursed English spleen 

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And that's another reason that I'd left old Skibbereen 



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Oh Your mother too, God rest her soul, lay on the snowy ground 

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She'd fainted in her anguish saw the desolation 'round 

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She never rose but passed away from life to immortal dream 

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And found a quiet grave, me boy, in dear old Skibbereen 



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Oh father dear, well the day might come when in answer to the call 

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Each Irish men would feeling strong will rally one and all 

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And I'll be the man to lead the band beneath the flag of green 

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And loud and high well you'll hear the cry, Revenge for Skibbereen!