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lirik lagu frank harte - the green fields of america

[verse 1]
farewell to the land of shillelagh and shamrock
where many’s the long day in great pleasure i spent
farewell to the friends that i leave here behind me
to live in old ireland if they are content
now it’s sorry i am for to leave this green island
whose cause i supported in both peace and war
but to live here in bondage, i never could be happy
oh, the green fields of america are sweeter by far

[verse 2]
the lint dams are idle and the wheels are not spinning
gone are the weavers of basket and creels
and away o’er the ocean go the journeymen tailors
and the fiddlers who flaked out the old mountain reels
but i mind the time when old ireland was flourishing
when all kinds of tradesmen did work for good pay
but since our manufactories have crossed the atlantic
’tis we boys must follow to amerikay

[verse 3]
no longer i’ll stay in this land of oppression
and no cruel landlord shall rule over me
to the land of sweet liberty i will bid good~morrow
in the green fields of america ’tis there i’ll be free
oh, who could stay here midst the want and starvation
to hear the poor children crying out for their bread
and so many of the people who without habitation
left to die in a field without a roof o’er the head
[verse 4]
my father is old and my mother quite feeble
to leave their own cottage, well, it grieves their hearts sore
and the tears down their cheeks in great numbers are falling
to think they must die upon a far distant shore
but little care i where my bones may be buried
if in peace and contentment i cannot spend my life
oh, the green fields of canada they daily are calling
there i will put an end to my misery and strife

[verse 5]
farewell to the groves of the sweet county wicklow
likewise to the girls of old ireland all round
may their hearts be as merry as ever i would wish them
though now far away across the ocean i’m bound
so pack up your sea stores, consider no longer
ten dollars a week isn’t very bad pay
with no taxes or tithes to devour up your wages
when you’re in the green fields of amerikay

[verse 6]
the anchor is weighed and our ship is now sailing
farewell to old ireland i’m not going to leave
my mary she has left both her father and mother
and with me she will cross o’er the wild stormy wave
and it’s now to conclude and to end my lamentation
if ever a friendless irishman should happen my way
with the best in the house i will greet and make him welcome
at home on the green fields of amerikay

- lirik lagu frank harte

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