an irish tale

by kara kunst

life o'fun and dance no more

it washed away on the rocky shore

poverty came and there was no coal

no heat in my home no food in my bowl

the green hills and d'river Shannon

are no longer beautiful to a beggar woman

searching the streets for coal and wood

begging merchants for clothes and food

comin' home to a flood all through the house

stepin' in cold water and maybe a mouse

happily the family moves upstairs

to a not much warmer place, but no one cares

too poor for blankets on d'bed

we use old coats to cover us instead

me brothers and I all sleep together

one bed for us and one for me mother and father

me dad, however is never there

he lives in the pub and drinks his beer

he sings as he comes down the lane

waking up neighbors, claiming he's insane

he makes me and me brothers rise

wake up, wake up and say you'll die

you'll fight to your death til' this country is saved

it will be the road to freedom that you've paved

he says if we say we'll die for Ireland, home of the free

he'll give a nickle to me brothers and me

what a lie I know he's tell'n to me

I am lucky to get a wee penny

will I survive, I sometimes wonder

will I live a life of fear and hunger

can't you see the message I am sendin'

for Irish tales don't have happy endin's