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Come all ye broken hearted ones and listen to my lay
About a lovely damsel, as fair as any May
Who's caused much tears and sorrow and grief and heartfelt woe
It's Kitty Flynn I'm speaking of, the Pride of Pimlico
It's just about a month ago unto this place she came
And set our hearts a blazing up in love's undying flame
And made of every other lass about the place a foe
Because she took their sweethearts, did the Pride of Pimlico
Poor Paddy Burke the tailor now can't do a stroke of work
Nor Billy Shee the handyman, nor steady Jack McGurk
And if you ax the reason all they'll answer you is "O
Tis all because of Kitty Quinn, the Pride of Pimlico
Murphy, the teetotaller now he's gone upon the spree
And Keogh, the whiskey drinker, now is drinking milk and tea
He's given up the Jameson, likewise the Power & Co.
Because his hearts distracted by the Pride of Pimlico
And even Kane, the miser that no one could get around
And young Tom Ray who owns a fortune near a hundred pound
And Matt McCann whose father keeps the Irish Waxwork show
They're raving night and day about the Price of Pimlico
Its time the polis saw to it, it soon will be too late
An divil a man in all the Coombe will have a solid pate
Or soon beyond in Riley's a sight of awful woe
You'll see ten thousand victims of the Pride of Pimlico!
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Farewell to the groves of shillelagh and shamrock
Farewell to the girls of Old Ireland all round
May their hearts be as merry as ever they would wish for
When far away across the ocean I'm bound
Oh my father is old and my mother quite feeble
To leave their own country it grieves their hearts sore
Oh the tears in great drops down their cheeks they are rolling
To think they must die upon some far and foreign shore
But what matters to me where my bones may be buried
If in peace and contentment I can spend my life
Oh the green fields of Canada they daily are blooming
It's there I'll put an end to my miseries and strife.
Then it's pack up your seastores and tarry no longer
Ten dollars a week isn't very bad pay;
With no taxes or tithes to devour up your wages
When you're on the green fields of Amerikay
The sheep run unshorn and the land's gone to rushes,
The blacksmiths are gone and the winders of creels,
Away o'er the ocean go journeymen tailors,
And fiddlers who flaked out the old mountain reels.
Farewell to the dances in homes now deserted,
When tips struck the lightening in splanks from the floor,
The paving and crigging of hobnails on flagstones
The tears of the old folk and shouts of encore.
For the landlords and bailiffs in vile combination,
Have forced us from hearthstone and homestead away
May the crowbar brigade all be doomed to damnation
When we're on the fields of Americay.
The timber grows thick on the slopes of Columbia
With Douglas in grandeur two hundred feet tall,
The salmon and sturgeon dam streamlet and river,
And the high Rocky Mountains look down on it all.
On the prairie and plain sure the wheat waves all golden
The maple gives sugar to sweeten your tay.
You won't want for corn cob way out in Saskatchewan
When you're in the green fields of Americkay.
And if you grow weary of pleasure and plenty
Of fruit from the orchard and fish from the foam,
There's health and good hunting 'way back in the forests
Where herds of great moose and wild buffalo roam.
And it's now to conclude and to finish my ditty
If ever friendless Irishmen chances my way
With the best in the house I will treat him, and welcome
At home in the green fields of Amerikay.
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An Buachaill Caol Dubh
04:47
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Patrick D'Arcy Nashville, Tennessee
Patrick D'Arcy hails from Dublin, Ireland and has spent most of his musical life plying his craft in the
US.
Patrick tours regularly both in the US and internationally. Currently with The Nashville Celts.
For 11 years he had the privilege to tour extensively from The Waterfront in Belfast to The Grand 'Ol Opry in Nashville with modern hymn writers Keith & Kristyn Getty.
... more
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