Young Ned Of The Hill
The Pogues| La versione di Ron Kavana come nell'album "Home Fire" del 1991. According... | |
| YOUNG NED OF THE HILL | YOUNG NED OF THE HILL |
| Have you ever walked the lonesome hills And heard the curlews cry Or seen the raven black as night Upon a windswept sky To walk the purple heather And hear the westwind cry To know that's where the rapparee must die | Have you ever walked the lonesome hills and heard the curlew's cry Or seen the raven, black as night, upon a windswept sky? To walk the purple heather and hear the westwind cry. To know that where the rapparee must die. |
| Since Cromwell pushed us westward To live our lowly lives There's some of us have deemed to fight From Tipperary mountains high Noble men with wills of iron Who are not afraid to die Who'll fight with gaelic honour held on high | Since Cromwell pushed us westward to live our lowly lives, There's some of us deemed to fight from Tipperary mountains high Noble men with wills of iron, who are not afraid to die, Who will fight with Gaelic honour held on high. Of one such man I'd like to speak, a rapparee by name and deed His family dispossessed and slaughtered, he swore to fight the British breed, His name is known in song and story and his deeds are legend still, I'll tell you now the sorry fate of Eamonn of the Hill. |
| A curse upon you Oliver Cromwell You who raped our Motherland I hope you're rotting down in hell For the horrors that you sent To our misfortunate forefathers Whom you robbed of their birthright "To hell or Connaught" may you burn in hell tonight | CHORUS: |
| Of one such man I'd like to speak A rapparee by name and deed His family dispossessed and slaughtered They put a price upon his head His name is know in song and story His deeds are legends still And murdered for blood money Was young Ned of the hill | You may rob our house and fortune, even drive us from the land, But you'll never break our spirit, 'cos you'll never understand The love of dear old Ireland, that will forge an iron will As long as there are gallant men like Young Ned of the Hill. |
| You have robbed our homes and fortunes Even drove us from our land You tried to break our spirit But you'll never understand The love of dear old Ireland That will forge and iron will As long as there are gallant men Like young Ned of the hill | A scourge to the redcoat soldiers with a price upon his head, To tempt a weaker soul to tell where he kept his bed, One night as he lay sleeping, his head beside his sword, Murdered by his cousin Dwyer to claim a coward's reward, The day after O'Dwyer had murdered Young Ned in his bed, He went for his blood money but was jailed himself instead, For poor Ned he had been pardoned the very day before, And a noose upon the gallows was O'Dwyer's just reward. A curse upon you Oliver Cromwell, you who raped our motherland, I hope you're rotting down in hell for the horrors that you sent To our misfortunate forefathers whom you robbed of their birthright 'To Hell or Connaught,' may you burn in hell tonight." |
