The harder I struggle
The tighter you grip
But don't need to tell you
That's the way that I want it
I'm easy to follow
You're easy to spot
I bet I can shake you off
But I gotta wanna do it
What good are the times
That I catch you alone?
It took an eternity and
I forgot what I wanted
What good are the times
That I take you to task?
You get me distracted
And I forget that I'm mad
I'm up on the counter
You're down on the floor
The kitchen is dirty
Pots and pans are flying
No food in the cupboard
A knock at the door
Let's give it a rest now
Buy a beer at the corner store
I'm going to bed now dear
But you still want more
And every single word you say
I've heard before
Oh you are an angel
When you're in recline
And like an anxious fist
My lullabye works fine
Lullabye and good night
Ain't that a great song?
You're an angel in recline
Please go to bed dear
Please go to bed dear please1 * * 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