Oh father dear I often hear you speak of Erin's Isle Her lofty scenes, her valley's green, her mountains rude and wild They say it is a lovely land wherein a prince might dwell Oh why did you abandon it the reason to me tell
Oh well do I remember that bleak december day The landlord and the sheriff came to drive us all away He set my roof on fire, when my rent I could not find And that's the cruel reason that I left it all behind
Your mother too, god rest her soul, she fell on snowy ground She could not raise her body, seeing desolation around She never rose but slipped away from life to mortal dream And found a quiet grave my boy in dear old skibbereen
And you were only two years old and feeble was your frame I could not leave you with my friends, you bore your father's name I wrapped you in my cottamore, in the dead of night unseen I heaved a sigh, and bade goodbye to dear old skibbereen
Oh father the day may come in answer to the call Each irishmen with feeling stern will rally one and all I'll be the man to lead the van beneath our flag of green And loud and high we'll raise a cry remember skibereenTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
