The Braes O Balquiddher Wild Mountain Thyme
1 * * 57
Who will plow the field now, and who will sow the corn
1 * * 57
Who will wash the sheep now, and keep them neatly shorn
4 1 * 57
The stack that's in the haggard, un-touched it may re-main
1 * 4 57 1
Since Johnny went a-thrashing all in the wars of Spain
CHORUS:
4 * 1 *
Johnny, lovely Johnny, he's sailing o'er the main
1 * 4 57 1
A-long with other patriots, to fight the King of Spain
And the girls from the bawn-oag in sorrow may re-tire
The piper and his bellows, (may) go home and blow the fire
At fairs and hurling matches, your likes we seldom see
Till you come home a-gain to us, a-storeen oag mo cree
And a cruel fate will not permit our Johnny to re-turn
His heavy loss, we Bantry girls will never cease to mourn
We re-sign ourselves to our sad lot, and die in grief and pain
Johnny died for freedom's sake in the foreign lands of Spain
NOTES:
- Gaelic phrases are spelled phonetically
- Haggard: a threshing yard
- Ba/no/g: a green patch of ground (Ireland?)
- Mi/an fhomhair: harvest month
- Asto/iri/n o/g mo chroi: little young treasure of my heart
We recommend: Don't Turn Your Back On Me (Banks)
Kurious the motherfuckin magician with the wand, is
(tell 'em) the man, if I uhh, blow like (BLAOW)
Jizz in your grill, constipated for real
With the shit to fulfill, combined with mad skill
Brew in the freezer, no time for cock-teasers
Asthmatic wheezer gives more props to a skeezer
Why? Simply cause she know what she want
She won't say, "I'm so horny," and then front
When my brain is racin triple time
with thoughts of fuckin you, on my mind
You say it's fine, I find it rather odd
Leave me with my dick mad hard, mentally scarred
Popp