1. |
Bill Harte's
01:49
|
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2. |
Téir Abhaile Riú
03:17
|
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|
Curfá
Téir abhaile riú
Téir abhaile riú
Téir abhaile riú, a Mhéaraí
Téir abhaile riú 's fan sa bhaile
Mar tá do mhargadh déanta.
Is cuma cé dhein é nó nár dhein
Is cuma cé dhein é, a Mhéaraí
Is cuma cé dhein é nó nár dhein mar
Tá do mhargadh déanta.
Curfá
Is cuma cé dhein é nó nár dhein
Is cuma cé dhein é, a Mhéaraí
Is cuma cé dhein é nó nár dhein mar
Tá do mhargadh déanta.
Curfá
Pós an piobaire
Pós an piobaire
Pós an piobaire, a Mhéaraí
Pós an piobaire i dtús na hoíche
Is beidh sé agat ar maidin.
Curfá
Tá do mhargadh
Níl mo mhargadh
Tá do mhargadh déanta
Níl mo mhargadh
Tá do mhargadh
Nil mo mhardadh déanta
Níl mo mhargadh
Tá do mhargadh
Níl mo mhargadh déanta
Tá do mhargadh
Níl mo mhargadh
Tá do mhargadh déanta
Curfá
|
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3. |
An Pasáiste
01:49
|
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4. |
Sí Bheag Sí Mhór
03:12
|
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5. |
Lakes of Pontchartrain
05:52
|
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|
T'was on one bright March morning I bid New Orleans adieu
And I took the rode to Jackson town, me fortune to renew
I cursed all foreign money, no credit could I gain
Which filled me heart with longin' for the Lakes of Pontchartain
I stepped on board of a railroad car beneath the morning sun
And I rode the roads 'til evening and I laid me down again
All strangers here, no friends to me 'til a dark girl towards me came
And I fell in love with a Creole girl from the Lakes of Pontchartrain
I said my pretty Creole girl, me money here's no good
If it weren't for the alligators I'd sleep out in the wood
You're welcome here kind stranger, our house it's very plain
But we never turn a stranger out at the Lakes of Pontchartrain
She took me to her mummy's house and she treated me quite well
The hair upon her shoulders in jet black ringlets fell
To try and paint her beauty I'm sure t'would be in vain
So handsome was my Creole girl from the Lakes of Pontchartrain
I asked her if she'd marry me, she'd said it could never be
For she had got another and he was far at sea
She said that she would wait for him and true she would remain
'Til he returned for his Creole girl from the Lakes of Pontchartrain
So fair thee well me bonny o' girl I never see no more
But I'll ne'er forget your kindness and the cottage by the shore
And at each social gathering a flowin' glass I'll raise
And drink a health to me Creole girl from the Lakes of Pontchartrain
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