Monday morning why do you haunt me with your bells and factory whistles all around Monday morning why do you taunt me and I so tired I could sleep here on the ground Monday morning 6 AM the clock rings off the wall an’ I’m standin’ tae attention in ma bare feet in the hall Wi’ un leg doon ma trousers I can find nae socks at all but I’m a coiled spring o’ industry respondin’ tae your call Give me something different please I ask them at The Broo On the board o’ some big company where I’ve no a thing tae do Let me try insider trading I’d be equal tae the task for I’m slowly being murdered by the piece bag and the flask The bloke behind the counter says you must be off your head and he swore he’d call the police if I did nae leave with speed It was then I saw the notice pinned behind him on the wall that said make ‘em thank their lucky stars they’ve any job at all So you can come up here to Scotland and you can pay us what you like for we’re meek sir, very simple and we’re no allowed to strike And we all wear wee cloth bonnets and we all say ‘help me Bob’ and we’ll all bend down and kiss your doup and thank ye for the job

Fair Jeanie took to sea that day two hundred on board as she set sail all leaving ‘cause the crops had failed knowing that they’d see their home no more Bound across the northern swell through rain and gale and raging sea resigned to what their fate might be they’d watch and wait for Canada’s eastern shore For three pounds ten and the will to live they’d leave their families and their dreams to go someplace they’d never seen to start again and build their lives anew Oh they’d step on board down near old Tralee down there by the docks and rocky strand they’d place their lives into her hands and know she’d never lost a soul at sea Every spring Jeanie sailed away bound for a place they called Grosse Isle with Captain Attridge at the wheel they’d slip past Brandon’s Creek at the break of day When summer came she’d be back again with a full weight of cargo on her keel timber corn and yellow meal and news from those who left the years before Now she stands again in Fenit Quay built by hand with love and pride she rides again upon the tide the Jeanie Johnston sails from port today Fair Jeanie took to sea today her three masts full sail to the breeze she slipped her moors with grace and ease she rides again in memory of darker days

When the lads all go out to drink a bit o’ stout and to get in a wee bit o’ leisure I still go out for the craiq and the sake of times gone back but I now seek different treasure As they toss back the ale and drink it by the pail and lose their wee bit o’ decorum I sit at the bar have a sip and a cigar for I drink in a different forum Though I like to drink a beer and to me the ale is dear and the stout is a mighty pleasure They make you feel full then they pass right through and you’re left an empty measure Sometimes wine just sipped is fine but mixed drinks are a bit risky For all my salt you can’t beat the single malt so make mine Scottish whiskey When we go out for the day to watch a bit o’ play we always bring a wee bit o’ something For it’s a sure bet it’ll be cold and wet and a drink is mighty comforting But the lads are loaded down and they stumble on the ground with a whacking great load for their drinking But for me one wee flask is enough to do the task they’re all daft that’s what I’m thinking At the weekly Sunday dinner you can’t go and be a sinner there isn’t any beer or any stout The lads all stand and talk with their mouths as dry as chalk the pubs are closed it’s like a flipping drought But me I’m fine and glad the food is not so bad and the lasses are as bonny as can be Well what they all don’t know because it doesn’t show what’s in my cup is not exactly tea Now to give the stout its due I like to drink it too and it’s great to have your friends to share a sip And the lads are learning too that it’s a pleasant thing to do and they’ll join me in a little nip So what it comes down to is that any drink will do they can all make you feel a wee bit frisky I can take which one I please and be just as much at ease but I still prefer a dram of Scottish whiskey

A stor mo chroi I give you all the love I have and more If I could wish to be forever anything I’d be forever yours Some may wish for riches like a mountain made of gold or perhaps they long for wisdom strength or fame But when I see your brown eyes looking back at me I know I have more than a million wishful dreams I think back on the days before your sun rose in my life and I wonder how I ever found my way Your smile your touch and your laughter have become for me my center in an ever-changing world There are those who spend their whole lives waiting looking for the chance to love someone the way that we do So every day I thank the stars that I asked you to dance and that you were meant for me and me for you

As I came o'er Strathmartin brae what do you think I seen But a brisk young piper laddie comin' linkin' o'er yon green Hey Donal ho Donal Dirrum a doo a day He played a jig and he played a reel he played a sweet strathspey And he set my heart a beatin' to the tappin' of his tae He says I've no gold to give to you I've gathered little gear But I'll give you love and freedom if you'll come with me my dear Oh there's gold in the broom of the Sidlaw hills honey in the heather sweet There's a speckled trout in the highland tarn green carpets 'neath our feet So he's ta'en out his chanter and such a tune he plays She's chosen love and freedom now she'll wander all her days

What's the spring-breathing jasmine and rose What's the summer with all its gay train Or the splendor of autumn to those Who've bartered their freedom for gain Let the love of our land's sacred rights To the love of our people succeed Let friendship and honor unite And flourish on both sides the Tweed. No sweetness the senses can cheer Which corruption and bribery bind No brightness that gloom can e'er clear For honor’s the sum of the mind Let virtue distinguish the brave Place riches in lowest degree Think them poorest who can be a slave Them richest who dare to be free

He saw the lass and fell for her when he first came to the Fair Though a handsome and a hearty lad how could he meet her there There were many men among the crowd he was but one he knew and only one would win her heart what was that lad to do He was not sae strong as other men his purse not as well padded For the lovely lass to look at him well something must be added Great feats were few about the fair for men to make great names The thought came then the thing to do was to join the Highland Games For in the Highland Games you show what you can do You’re one of the lads one of a very few who will stand out all alone and give your very best and the winners and the losers all stand proud above the rest The first task was to toss the stane a great girthed chunk o’ granite He hefted it and held his breath but he almost couldn’t stand wi’ it At first he swayed and then he spun to heave the stane away But the stane stayed still as he shot doon and skidded in the hay And he went arse over kick wi’ his kilt above his head He landed sae hard they all swore that he was dead But he stood and shook his loof as he staggered on the ground Well I gave it my best lads let’s go another round He fetched the fork the sheaf to toss he felt he couldn’t fail The heavy haft his hand did heft as he bent to lift the bail He raised the rake readied his toss but the hay had made him itch The fork flew east the sheaf fell west and he fetched up on the pitch The lovely lassie all alone was watching a’ the while Her fair eyes followed him doon the field then she stunned him with a smile He stood up straight stroked his beard he looked a lissom lairde But the final feat was before him now and that luckless lad was scared For the caber lay long on the land its length looked a league at least They stood it straight he stooped to it and stood back up with ease But the caber swayed the crowd backed off as he trotted doon the track He hopped and gave a hearty heave and hove right on his back He lay there long just looking up She’d seen his sorry showing She must have left wi’ another lad so he got up to get going She was standing there he shook his head what was she doing here She said you’re sure a good sport Jock would you buy a lass a beer You sure went arse over kick wi’ your kilt above your head Ye landed sae hard that I swore that ye were dead And I stood and shook my head as you staggered to your feet And I thought lassie now there’s a young lad that you should meet

Just sit right back and I’ll tell you a tale about a little known band from down near old Kinsale They played the locals on the Saturday night but no matter the tune it never sounded right Then they saw an ad in the local news seeking a band for a Caribbean cruise They looked at each other and said what’s to lose let’s trade in our wellies for some flip-flop shoes Down the pub Finn was feelin’ trapped working nights pulling the tap When the band was playin’ he come out o’ the bar and give it his best to be a fiddling star Well his pints were short and his reels too slow it wasn’t a loss when he said he’d go But down the islands he just seemed to know the way to play and make the music flow It might have been the rum It could have been the breeze Or maybe all the women or the gentle flowing seas But every night the crowd came to its feet When they played the reels with a calypso beat Whistlin’ Joe was a simple man pushin’ chips from a worn out van Every Sunday when he knelt to pray he dreamt of playing with Christie at the point someday But every time that he took the stage his innards went into fits of rage But out on the cruise he earns his wage whistlin’ at girls half his age Now Seamus worked delivering the post it was the soft and cold days he hated most By Saturday noon he’d walked terribly far but later that night he’d be playin’ his guitar His tempo was off and he’d lose the beat he’d keep on strumming till his hands got weak But when he plays in the tropical heat the people listening have to tap their feet Seamus Finn and Whistlin’ Joe fell in love and the next thing you know they were back in Kinsale with three wives in tow And the Calypso Ceili is a regular show.

Standing there at Shannon in the early morning rain the mist and the breeze in my face An old familiar feeling is coming back again from another time in this place A time when we were young and we didn’t have a care When Mom and Dad would pack us up for a summer over there We’d spend our days up on Croughan or on the strand down at Clonea or up the old tree by the gate or in the acre full of hay And even though I’m older and it’s been years I’ve been away I still know there’s a welcome waiting and a space beside the fire There’ll be stories told and songs of old and laughter for a while And I know no matter where I wander or where my spirit roams I’ll always find a welcome there in my Dungarvan home. As we make our way through Limerick and head on east to Cahir The empty streets await the start of day The scent of peat smoke lingers in the Tipperary air And in my mind the memories start to play A Christmas Mass at Mellary and the wren boys with a song A football match in McCarthyville when the summer days were long A pint down at The Anchor with the session in full play Where you can see the lights of Abbeyside or watch the moon dance on the bay I pass a quiet country churchyard and think of those who’ve passed away. By the time we get to old Clonmel, the day’s picked up its pace A schoolyard full of children hard at play I see you asleep beside me and watch the sunlight on your face And I think back to that warm September day When we made this trip together as a new wed man and wife And how I wanted you to love the place that had helped to shape my life To walk the Commeragh mountains or sit by the Quay and watch the tide Or hear a story and a song at my grandfather’s side Though the years have passed and our lives have changed I’m still glad that you’re my bride As we pass the Nire and Colligan we’ve just a few more miles This journey of memories is nearly done And in the rear-view mirror I catch a glimpse and have to smile As I think about what awaits our little son Picnics up at Mahon Falls and the boats off Helvick Head Or a walk out to the faerie liss where the wee folk used to tread See the lambs up on the mountain as they caper and they play Or sit beside a roaring fire on a soft and windy day Someday I’ll come back here for good and you know I’ll always say

When midnight comes good people homeward tread Seek now your blankets and your feathered bed Home comes the rover his journey over Yield up the nighttime to old John O’Dreams Across the Hills the sun has gone away Tomorrow’s cares are many dreams away The stars are flying your candle’s dying Yield up the darkness to old John O’Dreams Both man and master in the night are one All things are equal when the day is done The prince the plow man the slave the free man All find their comfort in old John O’Dreams When sleep it comes the dreams come running clear The hawks of morning cannot reach you here Sleep is a river flow on forever And for your boatman choose old John O’Dreams