Well it's by the hush, me boys, and that's to mind your noise And listen to poor Paddy's sad narration I was by hunger stressed, and in poverty distressed So I took a thought I'd leave the Irish nation
Well I sold me horse and cow, my little pig and sow My father's farm of land I then departed And me sweetheart Bid McGee, I'm afraid I'll never see For I left her there that morning broken-hearted
Here ye boys, now take my advice To America I'll have ye's not be going There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin
Well meself and a hundred more, to America sailed o'er Our fortunes to be making we were thinkin' When we got to Yankee land, they put guns into our hands Saying "Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln"
Here ye boys, now take my advice To America I'll have ye's not be going There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin
General Meagher to us he said, if you get shot or lose your head Every mother's son of youse will get a pension Well in the war lost me leg, and all I've now's wooden peg And by soul it is the truth to you I mention
Here's you boys, now take my advice To America I'll have ye's not be going There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin
Well I think myself in luck, if I get fed on Indianbuck And old Ireland is the country I delight in To the devil, I would say, it's curse Americay For truth I've had enough of your hard shite and
Here ye boys, now take my advice To America I'll have ye's not be going There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin I wish I was at home I wish I was at home I wish I was at home I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin
...ultimately, the empathic gift blurred the boundaries between hunter and victim, between the successful and the defeated
by seemslikeadream on Sat Aug 13, 2011 10:29 am 
March 2013
December 2012