10 Greatest Irish Songs (Part 4)

Continued from last post


8)The Auld Triangle- This song takes place in the same prison Kevin Barry was executed in. It's martyr's, martyr's everywhere; and Dublin walls to hold them in. Mountjoy Prison, on the banks of the royal canal, had what was known as a "Triangle Gallows". This was where the prisoners were executed, and so that "jingle-jangle" in the song is the sound of the Irish dying. And Brendan Behan, the writer of the song and a great Irish playwright, had heard the sound himself when he had done his time in Mountjoy; Helpless and alone, where what just haunts us now was true.





"A hungry feeling
Came oer me stealing
And the mice were squeeling
In my prison cell
And that auld triangle went jingle-jangle
All along the banks of the royal canal

Oh! to start the morning
The warden bawling
Get up out of bed, you! and clean out your cell!
And that auld triangle went jingle-jangle
All along the banks of the royal canal

Oh! the screw was peeping
And the loike was sleeping
As he lay weeping
For his girl sal
And that auld triangle went jingle-jangle
All along the banks of the royal canal

On a fine spring evening
The loike lay dreaming
And the sea-gulls were wheeling
High above the wall
And that auld triangle went jingle-jangle
All along the banks of the royal canal

Oh! the wind was sighing
And the day was dying
As the loike lay crying
In his prison cell
And that auld triangle went jingle-bloody-jangle
All along the banks of the royal canal

In the womens prison
There are seventy women
And I wish it was with them
That I did dwell
Then that auld triangle could go jingle-jangle
All along the banks of the royal canal"



9)The Irish Rover-- Glorying in the mighty wreck. A song about a ship that sinks, and all the joy it brings. Where nihilism and destruction can never cease the endless cheer; "If we're to drown then raise your glasses, a toast to us who're drowning here!!"




"On the fourth of July eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand city hall in New York
'Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft
And oh, how the wild winds drove her.
She'd got several blasts, she'd twenty-seven masts
And we called her the Irish Rover.

We had one million bales of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of stones
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides,
We had four million barrels of bones.
We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs,
Seven million barrels of porter.
We had eight million bails of old nanny goats' tails,
In the hold of the Irish Rover.

There was awl Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute
When the ladies lined up for his set
He was tootin' with skill for each sparkling quadrille
Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
With his sparse witty talk he was cock of the walk
As he rolled the dames under and over
They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance
And he sailed in the Irish Rover

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee,
There was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Jimmy McGurk who was scarred stiff of work
And a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Tracey from Dover
And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover

We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
And the ship lost it's way in a fog.
And that whale of the crew was reduced down to two,
Just meself and the captain's old dog.
Then the ship struck a rock, oh Lord what a shock
The bulkhead was turned right over
Turned nine times around, and the poor dog was drowned
I'm the last of the Irish Rover"



10)Fairytale of New York-- The greatest Christmas song ever written. Shane MacGowan, drunken, failed, having lost forever all the bets that he'd placed; all the money gone. And the ones we take with us when we fall down together, and their dreams that are crushed so our dreams can live on. In the Milky Way stars, in the tiniest speck, before Earth was deserted and all of us gone, was a dot of forgiveness, a tiny endeavour; and two hearts full of dreams to build galaxies on.





"It was Christmas Eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me, won't see another one
And then he sang a song
The Rare Old Mountain Dew
I turned my face away
And dreamed about you

Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I've got a feeling
This year's for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true

They've got cars big as bars
They've got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It's no place for the old
When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me
Broadway was waiting for me

You were handsome
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging,
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner
Then danced through the night

The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day

You're a bum
You're a punk
You're an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scumbag, you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it's our last

I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you"