Daoiri Farrell - McShane | Текст песни

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• Daoiri Farrell
• McShane

I'm playing the bouzouki about two years now and McShane was officially the first song I learned to play on the instrument. I learned it from the singing of Eddie Furey years ago before I had an interest in playing any instrument. I met him a few years ago in a session and asked him if he minded me singing one of his songs and he said he didn't mind at all. It's about a farmer from Kildare who emigrates to Scotland to become a labourer this song tells of his time there.

My name is McShane from the plains of Kildare
A farmer I was until the last year
Till I took a notion of higher promotion
Went over to England the harvest to share
CHORUS: Room Toora La, O Room Toora Laddie, Room Toora La Mush a room toralay

I parted with Molly so proud and so jolly
Picked up a stick for a staff in me hand
And to keep myself cheery for fear I'd be weary
I sang Paddywhack as I went on my way.
Chorus:

I landed in Dumbarton on a fine summers morning
Me bundle and staff I held them in me hands
There were some of them laughing and some of them chaffin'
More of them trying to put Paddy away.
Chorus:

I went to a woman and ask her for lodgings
She said "Me young man, now don't look so dull!
For I will tell you where you can get lodgings
If you go to the woman who owns the black bull."
Chorus:

So I went to this woman and asked her for lodgings
She instantly showed me a bed in the room
And I being so tired and worn out from walking
I threw myself down on the bed in the room.
But a lump of a Tinker lay up in the corner
He swore 'pon his soul sure he'd kill all was there
Says I "Me bold Tinker, give over your braggin',
I'm bold McShane from the plains of Kildare!"
Chorus:

He tried for to hit me a punch in the stomach
I instantly fetched him a one in the throat
He tumbled heels over his head in the corner
And cut down his head in an old whiskey pot.
Chorus:

He lay on the floor like a sheep he was bleating
I swore 'pon my soul sure I'd cut off his life
But I lifted him up and sent down for a naggin'
Me and the Tinker we ended the strife.
Chorus:

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