Come all you loyal heroes
wherever that you be
And don't tire with any master
till you know what your work will be
For you must rise up early
from the clear daylight of dawn
And I know that you'll never be able
to plough the rocks above
And it's a rise up lovely Sweeney,
and give your horse some hay.
And give him a good feed of oats
before you ride away.
Don't feed them on soft turnips,
Put them out on your green lawn,
And I know that you'll never be able
To plough the rocks above.
My curse attend you, sweeney,
for you have me nearly robbed.
As sitting by the fireside,
with your Jew gene in your gob.
As sitting by the fireside,
from the clear daylight of dawn.
And I know that you'll never be able
to plow the rucksaband.
My shoes, they are well worn out.
My stockings, they are thin.
And my heart is always trembling
For fear that they'll let in
My heart is always trembling
From the clear daylight of dawn
Afraid I'll never be able
To plough the rocks abond
I wish the Queen of England
would write to me in time,
and place me in some regiment,
all in my oath and pride.
I'd fight for Ireland's glory
from the clear daylight of dawn,
And they never would return again
To blow the rucksabar