e (D) e (D)
Lift MacKahir Og your face, brooding o4er the old disgrace,
e (D) C D e
that black FitzWilliam stormed your place, and drove you to the Fern.
e (D) e (D)
Grey said victory was sure, soon the firebrand hed secure,
e (D) C D e
until he met at Glenmalure Fiach McHugh O4Byrne.
Ref:
h D
Curse and swear, Lord Kildare, Fiach will do what Fiach4ll dare,
h h D e
now FitzWilliam have a care, falling is your star low.
h D
Up with Halpert out with sword, on we go for by the lord,
h h D e
Fiach McHugh was given the word, follow me up to Carlow.
See the swords of Glen Imale, flashing oer the English pale,
see all the children of the Gael, beneath O4Byrne4s banners.
Rooster of a fighting stock, would you let a saxon cock,
crow out upon an Irish rock, fly up and teach em manners.
From the Taggart to Clonmore, flows a stream of Saxon gore,
and great is Rory Og O4More, at sending loons to Hades.
White is sick and Lane is fled, now for black FitzWilliam4s head,
we send it over dripping red, to Lisa and her Ladies. |