O’Brien’s March

O’Brien’s March

(Air: “The Regular Army O!”)

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WELL done Molloy, come on, my boy,

And join us in the job.

A gratis seat, with whips to eat,

Draught porter and three bob,

And all you’ve got to do for it—

Shoot Egan and O’Brien—

Then as of old, when Knights were bold,

March on the Palestine!

(Chorus):

Come on, my boys, keep up the noise,

And fire off your guns,

Our politics are chester cake,

Draught porter and fresh buns;

We’ll shout like bricks, or lunatics,

And make Ben-Nephin jump,

Then put another handle on

The Crossmolina Pump!

We’ll shout and yell for brave Parnell

As long as we have breath,

And cringe and whine to crank O’Brien

Who hounded him to death,

And you may bet we won’t forget

To keep one glorious yell

For the turn-coat vice-chairman

Of the local U. I. L.

We want all cranks within our ranks—

No priest allowed to join—

Uneducated men like them,

Who never crossed the Boyne.

Father Murphy, John of Tuam—

Not worth a single pin—

Lord Barrymore, no mile asthore,

And Clanricarde are our men.

I heard a man who leads the van

To say in ninety-two

He was an ardent Parnellite—

Held to his memory true.

That renegade now lends his aid,

And seems to be the slave

Of him, they say, who sent the chief

Unto an early grave.

Then shout my boys, keep up the noise,

We are “All-for-Ireland’s” sons,

Our politics are chester cake

Draught porter and fresh buns.

Shout and whine for Crank  O’Brien,

And make old Nephin jump,

While Bernard twists the handle

Of the Crossmolina Pump!

Then join the crowd, and shout aloud,

Like “All-for-Ireland's” sons,

Our politics are chester cake

Draught porter and fresh buns;

Sweet Bernard will keep smiling

While Crank William makes his stump

And finishes the handle

For the Crossmolina Pump!

                  

                                                                Larry Doolan

                                           Ballina, August 29^th, 1904