The Broad Majestic Shannon (Live)

This is called The Broad Majestic Shannon One, two, three, one-two The last time I saw you was down at the Greeks There was whiskey on Sunday and tears on our cheeks You sang me a song, pure as the spring The breeze going up Glenaveigh I sat for a while at the cross at Finnoe Where young lovers would meet when the flowers were in bloom Heard the men coming home from the fair at Shinrone Their hearts in Tipperary wherever they go Take my hands and dry your tears, babe Take my hands, forget your fears, babe There's no pain, there's no more sorrow They're all gone, gone in the years, babe I sat for a while by the gap in the wall Found a rusty tin can and an old Hurley ball Heard the cards being dealt and the rosary called And a fiddle playing "Sean Dun Na N gall" And the next time I see you, we'll be down at the Greeks There'll be whiskey on Sunday and tears on our cheeks It's useless to laugh, stupid to bawl to bawl 'Bout a rusty tin can and an old Hurley ball Take my hands and dry your tears, babe Take my hands, forget your fears, babe There's no pain, and no more sorrow They're all gone, gone in the years, babe So I walked as the day was dawning Where small birds sang and leaves were falling Where we once watched the row boats landing By the broad majestic shannon Oh yeah Nice thrust and I'll see you in a minute Hey, you lazy sons of bitches Get up off your fucking hairy Irish asses and dance