Andy Irvine

John Barlow

There was a lady lived in the West
And she was dressed in green
And she’s leaned over her father’s castle wall
To watch the ships sail in.

What is wrong with you her father he did say
You look so pale and wan
O have you any sore sickness
Or yet been sleeping with a man.

I have not had any sore sickness
But I’m in love with a young man
And the only thing that breaks my heart
Is what keeps my darling so long?

Is he a Lord or a Squire or a Duke
Or a man of noted fame
Or is he one of my serving men
That’s lately come out of Spain?

He is not a Lord, or a Squire or a Duke
Nor a man of noted fame
But he is young John from the isle of Man
And I think he is a fine young man.

O, send him down, the saucy clown
O, send him down onto me
For if he is thinking to gain my daughter’s hand
He must leave this country.

O father dear now don’t be severe
And don’t be cruel onto me
For if you banish young John Barlow
You will get no good of me.

But the King he has sent for his merry, merry men
And his merry men thirty and three
And instead of young John been the very first one
The very last one came he.

He entered the room young John Barlow
And the clothes that he wore were of silk
And his two blue eyes like the morning sky
And his skin was as white as milk.

It’s no wonder the King he did say
My daughter’s in love with thee
For had I been a woman as I am a man
My bedfellow you would have been.

Will you wed my daughter he said
Will you take her by the hand
And will you wed my daughter he said
And be Lord over all my land?

O, I will wed your daughter he said
But she’s no match for me
For every pound she can count down
I can count thirty and three.

He’s mounted her on a milk white steed
Himself on a dapple grey
And he’s made her a Lady of as much land
As she could ride in a long summer’s day.

Hi mate !

Just wanted you to know that John Barlow was recorded on a Lp, called “Patris” (Homeland) by the Greek band, “Apodimi Compania”, on Brunswick Recordings 0010, 1990, Melbourne, Australia. Andy plays Bouzouki and sings. Manoli Galiatsos plays the Oud and George Galiatsos plays the Guitar.

Andy told me that he had learnt the song from Robert Cinnamond of Co, Antrim, who would not recognise it if he heard it now !!!!!!!

George Galiatsos

Many thanks to George for getting in touch. What a gent.

General Munroe

My name is George Campbell, my age is sixteen
I joined the united men to fight for the green
And manys the battle I did undergo
When commanded by that hero old General Munroe

Were you at the battle of Ballinahinch
When the people oppressed, rose up in defence
And Munroe took the mountains, his men took the field
And they fought for three hours and never did yield

Munroe being weary and in need of some sleep
Gave a woman ten guineas, his secret to keep
But she got the money, the divil tempted her so
And she sent for the army and surrendered Munroe

well The army, they came and surrounded them all
He thought to escape but he could not at all
And they marched him to Lisburn without more delay
And they hung our poor hero the very same day

Were you at the farm when the cavalry came there
How the horses did caper and prance in the rear
And the traitor being with them as you may all know
It was out of a haystack they hauled poor Munroe

In came Munroe’s Sister she was well dressed in green
She’d a sword by her side that was long, sharp and keen
Three cheers she did give and way she did go
Saying I’ll have revenge for my brother Monroe

Munroe being taken and lead to the tree
says farewell to my comrades where soever they may be
There’s one thing that grieves me and it’s parting them so
So farewell to that hero old general Munroe


Originally recorded for inclusion on Andy’s ‘Rainy Sundays, Windy Dreams’ album, this song didn’t make the final mix. It was subsequently featured on ‘High Kings of Tara’, a compilation album of different artists released by Tara Records in 1980.

Henry Munroe (1758 – 1798) was the only son of a presbyterian tradesman of Scottish descent who settled at Lisburn, County Down. Henry entered the linen business about 1788, and in 1795, joined the United Irishmen with the view of promoting the cause of catholic emancipation and parliamentary reform. He was leader of the County Down insurgents in the 1798 rebellion. After initial success at Saintfield, he was defeated at the Battle of Ballinahinch. He sought refuge in a farmhouse but was betrayed. He as hanged in Lisburn on thirteenth of June, 1798.


Raoul Wallenberg



Written by Andy Irvine

“Raoul Wallenberg was a Swede who volunteered to take on the might of the SS in 1944 and save the Jews of Budapest from Eichmann and The Final Solution. Under the guise of being a diplomat in the legation, he issued Swedish passports, set up safe houses under the protection of the neutral Swedish flag and intercepted the death trains and marches. He is considered responsible for saving thousands of Jews from the horrors of Auschwitz.

When the Soviet army entered Budapest in 1945 however, they didn’t believe his story and took him to Moscow. The rest is clouded in mystery; the Russians still maintain he died shortly afterwards but the number of people reporting an acient Swede in various prison camps in the Gulag system – right up to the early 1980’s – cannot easily be discounted. There remains a possibility that he may be alive” Andy – Rude Awakening linear notes.


Allan McLean

Get all things in order I’ll write with my pen
The trials and misfortune of Allan McLean
I was born in the Oulton, a minister’s son
Brought up with good learning ‘til my school days were done

Well I went to the college a scholar to be
But the wedding at Westfield it quite ruined me
John Allan, McGregor, McDermott and me
Went to the wedding bonnie lassies to see

Oh we danced and we drank and we took great delight
‘Til bonny Sally Allan came into my sight
Oh Sally, dear Sally, will you sit down by me
And tell me the news from your north country

Oh Sally, dear Sally will you take a dram
Oh yes, bonny Allan if it comes from your hand
We went to the broom in the middle of the night
We had neither coal nor candle but the moon gave us light

But her father the next morning to the college he came
He was all in a passion at Allan McLean
If it’s true says the Regent and I think it’s no lie
This day from Oulton College young Allan must fly

Today’s the recreation and tomorrow’s the Ball
And we’ll banish you Allan from the Oulton College Hall
She was a rich man’s daughter and I but a poor man’s son
And one word from her father and my college days were done

My fathers a minister and he preaches at Tain
And my mother dies in the Highlands and I dare not go home
But there’s Charlotte, the Royal lies ready for sea
And she takes goods and passengers and maybe she’ll take me

I intended for a minister but now that will not do
And it’s now as a doctor my life I must pursue
And it’s I’m bound for London a doctor to be
And then to Jamaica, strange countries to see

And if ever I return again as I hope I will
We will have a merry meeting by the Oulton College wall
And if ever I return again as I surely will
I will marry Sally Allan in spite of them all


Banks of Newfoundland

Oh you may bless your happy luck that lies serene on shore
Far from the billows and the waves that round poor sailors roar
For little we knew the hardships that we were obliged to stand
For fourteen days and fourteen nights on the banks of Newfoundland

Our good ship never crossed before these stormy western waves
And the raging seas came down on us and soon beat in her stays
She being of green unseasoned wood and little could she stand
When the hurricane came down on us on the banks of Newfoundland

We were starved and frozen with the cold when we sailed from old Québec
And every now and then we were obliged to walk the deck
We being all hardy Irishmen and our vessel did well man
And the captain doubled each man’s grog on the banks of Newfoundland

We fasted for three days and nights when provisions did run out
And on the morning of the fourth we cast a lot about
The lot it fell on the captain’s son and as you may understand
We spared his life for another night on the banks of Newfoundland

Then on the morning of the fifth he got orders to prepare
We only gave him one short hour to offer up a prayer
But providence proved kind to us and saved blood from every hand
When a full-rigged ship hauled into view on the banks of Newfoundland

When they took us from our wrecked ship we were more like ghosts than men
They fed us and they clothed us and they brought us back again
But many of our brave Irish boys never saw they native land
And the captain lost both legs from frost on the banks of Newfoundland

The number of our passengers was four hundred thirty two
There was none of them poor passengers could tell that tale but two
Their parents may shed bitter tears that’s on their native strand
Wild mountains of waves roll over their graves on the banks of Newfoundland

Submitted by Saskia

The Mall of Lismore

Come all you fair maids take a warning
And it’s never a soldier take wed
Or else like myself you’ll be mourning
Far better live single instead

For once I was young and light hearted
But now all my pleasures are o’er
Since my darling has gone and he’s left me
All alone in the Mall of Lismore

As I went a walking one morning
Down by the sweet banks of the Finn
I met with a dashing young soldier
And soon my poor heart he did win

I thought him both handsome and charming
His features I ne’er saw before
But alas has gone and he’s left me
All alone in the Mall of Lismore

To Dublin his regiment was ordered
And my soldier he didn’t take long
In picking a dispute with his Sergeant
And it was for this misfortune was wronged

He was handcuffed and tied with a halter
And his back with the lash was made sore
And that was the reason he left me
All alone in the Mall of Lismore

Farewell to the banks of Blackwater
And adieu to my parents and home
Since my father her disowned his own daughter
In some foreign valleys I’ll roam

May he always be blessed with good fortune
And I hope that I’ll meet him once more
But alas has gone and he’s left me
All alone in the Mall of Lismore


“The Mall of Lismore” is a song written in the first person—and as a warning to “other fair maids”—by a girl who was disowned by her father for falling in love with a “dashing young soldier” who, in turn, leaves her “all alone on the Mall of Lismore, when to Dublin his regiment was ordered”. Irvine sings and plays harmonica & mandolin, accompanied on harpsichord by Tríona Ní Dhomhnaill.

Lyrics submitted by Sean Laffey. “Here are the lyrics to Mall of Lismore, from the 1977 The Gathering album. These will be printed in Irish Music Magazine this coming October along with a commentary.”

Come To The Land Of Sweet Liberty

Our ship at the present lies in Derry Harbour
To bear us away o’er the wild swelling sea
May heaven be her pilot and grant us fond breezes
Till we reach the green fields of Amerikay.

Oh come to the land where we will be happy
Don’t be afraid of the storm o’er the sea
And it’s when we get over we will surely discover
That place is the land of sweet liberty.


Part of a trilogy of songs (“The Emigrants”), comprising: “Come To The Land Of Sweet Liberty” which seems to be part of “The Green Fields Of Amerikay” (which Irvine learnt from Len Graham), “Farewell To Old Ireland” (Irvine’s adaptation of “The Emigrant’s Farewell”,) and “Edward Connors” (which Irvine learnt from Eddie Butcher of Magilligan, County Londonderry).

Seamen Three

We were seamen three,
Cisco, Jimmy and me;
Shipped out to beat the fascists
Across the land and sea.

We were seamen three,
Cisco, Jimmy and me;
We outsung all o’ you Nazis
Across our lands and seas.

We were seamen three,
Cisco, Jimmy and me;
We talked up for the NMU
Across our lands and seas.

We were seamen three,
Cisco, Jimmy and me;
Outsung all o’ you finks and ginks
Across our lands and seas.

We were seamen three,
Cisco, Jimmy and me;
Worked to haul that TNT
Across our lands and seas.

We were seamen three,
Cisco, Jimmy and me;
If you ever saw one you’d see all three
Across our lands and seas.

We were seamen three,
Cisco, Jimmy and me;
Torpedoed twice and robbed with dice
Across our lands and seas.

We were seamen three,
Cisco, Jimmy and me;
Not many pretty lasses did we miss
Across our lands and seas.

We were seamen three,
Cisco, Jimmy and me;
Ocean’s still a-ringin’ with songs we sung
Across our lands and seas.

We were seamen three,
Cisco, Jimmy and me;
We fight and sing for the Willy McGhees
Across our lands and seas.

We were seamen three,
Cisco, Jimmy and me;
Keep a-fightin’ and a-singin’ till the world gets free
Across my lands and seas.

We were seamen three,
Cisco, Jimmy and me;
Gonna keep workin’ and a-fightin’ for peace
Across my lands and seas.

Words by Woody Guthrie

*This song is available in the “Pastures of Plenty: The Unpublished Writings of Woody Guthrie” edited by Harold Leventhal and Dave Marsh along with “Woody, Cisco and Me” by Vincent James Longhi. Both of these books are no longer in print.

© Copyright 1962 (renewed) and 1990 (renewed) by Woody Guthrie Publications, Inc. & TRO-Ludlow Music, Inc. (BMI) Contact The Publisher- The Richmond Organization (TRO)
Attention: Kathryn Ostien 266 West 37th Street, 17th Floor / New York, NY 10018-6609

James Connolly

Where oh where is our James Connolly?
Where oh where is that gallant man?
He has gone to organise the union
That working men might yet be free

Where oh where is the Citizen Army?
Where oh where is that gallant band?
They´ve gone to join the Great Rebellion
And smash the bonds of slavery

Who´ll be there to lead the van?
And who´ll be there to lead the van?
Oh who should be there but our James Connolly
The hero of each working man

Who carries high our burning flag?
Who carries high our burning flag?
Oh who but James Connolly all pale and wounded
Who carries high our burning flag.

They carried him up to the jail
They carried him up to the jail
And there they shot him one bright May morning
And quickly laid him in his grave.

Who mourns now for our James Connolly?
Who mourns for that gallant man?
Oh lay me down in yon green garden
And make my bearers Union men

We laid him down in yon green garden
With Union men on every side
And we swore we would forge one mighty weapon
And fill that gallant man with pride

Where oh where is our James Connolly?
Where oh where is that gallant man?
He has gone to organise the union
That working men might yet be free