Piper's Tune


As I roved through the town to view the pretty lasses
The old maids with a frown peeped at me through their glasses
To Cobh we will go down to view the lasses pretty
And the sailor men also which sets forth all it’s beauty

Ri – too-ral – oo – ral – ah
Ri – too-ral – oo – ral – addy
Ri – too-ral – oo – ral – ah
Ri – too-ral – oo – ral – addy

There’s Captain Burke of Grove, a very famous name, sirs
He keeps the buck and doe, and hunts the sporting game, sirs
He winds the whip and spur, and makes the hunters rattle
And when that home he comes he’ll surely crack a bottle

John Blake for to promote, he plays some tunes so merry
He gave some charming notes to banish melancholy
He’ll then blow up the pipes to play the-tune “ Brave Larry”
You’d laugh until you’d die to hear “Sweet Paddy Carey”

He’d play the Prussian Wars, the falls of the Boyne Water
Jeannette and Jeannot and the March of Alexander
The blooming White Cockade, the Old Brigade is coming
O’Connell’s in for Clare, and all the bells were ringing

He played the Colleen Bawn, the banks of Kitty’s Cottage
The affermonious jig called “My mother’s mess of pottage”
The Wexford Rakes in style and Trip the world before him
The Sailor’s Hornpipe, and Garryowen and Glory

He played Kitty from Athlone, with Moreen méra Glanna
Noreen on the road, and the flashy Rakes of Mallow
Aughrim’s overthrow, and the fall of Carrig Castle
Brave Sarsfield took command at many a famous battle

He played the Chorus jig, the ancient Ladies’ Fancy
Jack and the Jug of Punch, and the Bonnie Highland Laddie
The Ale-house in great glee, with the Glass of brandy
The Roving sporting wheel, My love he is a dandy

Nora Creena, he can play with all the variations
The Rambler from Tralee, the Devil among the Tailors
The Job of journey work, and the Boy she left behind her
The song of Paddy Whack, and Tally-hi-ho the grinder

He played up Bob and Joan, with Ju Ju Joice the joker
The famous jig Tow-row that was kept for Captain Croker
The Ball of Ballinafad, and the Banks of Bannow
Plunkett’s Moll in the wad, and Shawn O’Deer a’Glana

He played of Bonaparte who crossed the Alps in winter
The Union hornpipe, and the Killinick fox hunters
The song of Patrick’s Day, and the jig of Paddy Carroll
And each boy will Kiss the Maid behind the whiskey barrel

So now I’ll sing no more because my song is ended
If I said anything wrong I hope you’re not offended
Of hornpipes, jigs and reels, I’m sure I told you many
Get up and shake your heels, ’tis better sport than any


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