American Old Time Song Lyrics: 25 The Bold Irish Soldier

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 25

Home Songster main V01 V02 V03 V04 V05 V06 V07 V08 V09 V10 V11 V12 V13 V14 V15 V16 V17 V18 V19 V20 V21 V22 V23 V24 V25 V26 V27 V28 V29 V30 V31 V32 V33 V34 V35 V36 V37 V38 V39 V40 V41 V42 V43 V44 V45 V46 V47 V48 V49 V50 V51 V52 V53 V54 V55 V56 V57 V58 V59 V60 V61 Support Search

Share page  Visit Us On FB


A raw recruit, och, shure is me,
I enlisted in Philadelphy;
Field Marshall I soon came to be,
Tip top of the Union army.
Oh, what pleasure, and, oh, what joys
"Twill be to gain promotion,
I've a taste for fighting anyhow, boys.
An' a better one for the lotion.

Spoken-Arrah, an' ain't I, sure, fond of the lotion. Look at
the bloom on the top of me nose. Ain't it beautiful? But the
worst of it is, it is always runnin', an' the divil a bit can I stop it,
and that's not military, is it, lads? It wants a rum puncheon
(punching). I should think that would do it. But enough. I'll
lave me nose alone an' go on wid me tale. Well, afther I took the
bounty, I enlisted, and got drunk to the tune of

Wid spirits gay I'll march away,
All danger to be scorning;
I could fight all night till the break of day,
An' come home quite fresh in the morning.

Now I an another, an' a good man more,
Had to strip an' show our figger.
An' be well examined by Dr. O'Moore
Afore we could pull a trigger.
The doctor patted us on the backs,
Says he, none can be prouder,
Yez can give and take some thunderin' whacks,
And' yer rattlin' stuff for powder.

Spoken-Well, and afther we were all squinted at, the sargent
comes up, and says: "Fall in. Quick march, an' don't fall out,"
an' thin we all marched in a straight line down crooked lanes till
we came to the Pig in the Pound, kept by a mighty civil landlord,
who lost his appetite directly afther we entered, an' I belave has
not regained it since. However, he put us six in a bed, an' all of
us dramed about ould Ireland, the first Jim of the say, bless the
veins of her heart. An' somehow or another we all dramed we
were fightin' the enemy, for in the middle of the night we all rolled
on to the floor, an' I got a murtherous kick on the iaw from Mick
Casey's iron-tipped boot, who let daylight into Kelly's skull, who
holler'd blue murther, which woke the divil of a sargent up, who
soon got knocked down, but up came the picket, and we were
marched off to be drilled to the tune of

See these ribbons gayly living,
I mane fightin' for the flat,
I mane fightin' for the flag.
For that I don't mind dyin'.
Since to ould Ireland good it's been,
I'll serve it with right good will,
And help to cure or kill
Any cruel despot's band,
Should they e'er attempt to land;
For we're made of fightin' stuff,
And they'll get handled rather rough.
Then three cheers for our Union flag,
Three cheers for our Union flag.

Spoken-Well, I shan't say anything more about myself or any
other man to-night, lads, but drop in to-morrow if your poor feet
will let you, an' hear me sing to the tune of-Chorus.
Download music lyrics PDF file For Printing with (no ads)
Download music lyrics in RTF file For editing / printing with Word and other editing software.
Download music lyrics as PNG Graphic file For inclusion in DTP etc.