Oh, who will plough the fields now And who will sow the corn And who will watch the sheep now And keep them from all harm And the stack that's in the haggard Unthreshed it may remain Since Johnny, lovely Johnny Went to fight the king of Spain
Oh, the girls of the Banóg In sorrow may retire And the piper and his bellows May go home and blow the fire Since Johnny, lovely Johnny Went sailing o'er the main Along with other patriots To fight the king of Spain
The boys will sorely miss him When Moneymore comes round And grieve that their bould captain Is nowhere to be found And the peelers must stand idle Against their will and grain Since the valiant boy who gave them work Now peels the king of Spain
At wakes and hurling matches Your likes we'll never see 'Till you come back again to us Mo storeen óg mo chroi And won't you trounce the buckeens Who show us much disdain Because our eyes are not as bright As those you meet in Spain
Oh, if cruel fate should not permit Our Johnny to return His awful loss we Bantry girls Will never cease to mourn We'll resign ourselves to our sad lot And die in grief and pain Since Johnny died for Ireland's pride In the sunny land of SpainTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
