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lirik lagu the irish brigade - the old bog road

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[verse 1]
my feet are here on broadway
this blessed harvest morn
but oh, the ache that’s in them
for the spot where i was born
my weary hands are blistered
from work in cold and heat
and oh, to swing a scythe today
through a field of irish wheat
had i the chance to wander back
or own a king’s abode
and soon i’d see the hawth~rn tree
down the old bog road!

[verse 2]
when i was young and restless
sure, my mind was ill at ease
from dreaming of a americay
and the gold beyond the sea
oh, sorrow take their money
for it’s hard to get the same
oh, and what’s the world to any man
where no one speaks his name?
i’ve had my way, and here i am
just building bricks per load
a long three~thousand miles away
from the old bog road
[verse 3]
my mother died last spring time
when erin’s fields were green
the neighbors said her waking
was the finest ever seen!
there were snowdrops and primroses
piled high upon her bed
and ferran’s church was crowded
when her funeral mass was read
oh, but here was i on broadway
just building bricks per load
as they carried out her coffin gown
the old bog road

[verse 4]
ah, life’s a weary puzzle
it’s past finding out by man
i’ll take each day for what it’s worth
i’ll do the best i can
since no one cares a rush for me
why should i make a moan?
i’ll pull my way, i’ll draw my pay
and i’ll smoke my pipe alone!
each human heart must bear its grief
though bitter be the load
so god, be with you ireland…
and the old bog road!


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