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frank harte - you sons of old ireland كلمات أغنية

[verse 1]
now, what sort of song will i sing you tonight?
for, when i get up i get into a fright
i always begin it too high or too low
but, what’s that to any man whether or no?
scitheree oudle dum ditheree oudle da dum!

[verse 2]
you sons of old ireland, i’m sorry to hear
there’s no money stirring this present new year
but we’ll drink all we’ll earn, and we’ll pay what we owe
is caidé sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó?
scitheree oudle dum ditheree oudle da dum!

[verse 3]
our gentry who fed upon turtle and wine
must now on wet lumpers and salt herrings dine
their bellies that swelled with napoleon’s renown
grows flat as old air bags, since boney went down
scitheree oudle dum ditheree oudle da dum!

[verse 4]
bonaparte taught some men for to ride a white horse
that a short time ago couldn’t ride a jackass
“by the silver of my whip”, was their oath then in town
“by the nails of my brogues”, since old boney went down
scitheree oudle dum ditheree oudle da dum!
[verse 5]
so, now to conclude and to finish my song
let the markets improve and it won’t be too long
till every strong farmer will draw a long bow
is caidé sin don té sin nach mbaineann sin dó?
scitheree oudle dum ditheree oudle da dum!

- frank harte

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