Lyrics

We fought back in the year of the famine Revenge on the rich by the poor The sake of our lands and our farms, Our rights to live on these shores Well this is the lands of our fathers We work the land with blood, sweat and tears Our kinsmen are buried all around us We have nothing, I wouldn't take another year I will dance the jig of death in the morning I will fight for the right to be free I will dance the jig of death in the morning As they hang me from the Gallow's Tree The servant and the troopers came a-calling To cast us out like vermin in the night And I watched as my home stood burning round me But I won't give up my lands without a fight Well I damn you to hell my loathsome servant As masters they will drive us from the land And I swear on this day for retribution There comes a time when a man must make a stand I will dance the jig of death in the morning I will fight for the right to be free I will dance the jig of death in the morning As they hang me from the Gallow's Tree I like to tell the tale of pain and distance My pistol hanging silent by my side So let this be a lesson tyrant landlord As my bullet hit him right between the eyes So now as I'm stumbling in the Gallow's And I gaze up and he fires to the sky Well I'll meet you down in hell my loathsome servant For my honour and my freedom I must die I will dance the jig of death in the morning I will fight for the right to be free I will dance the jig of death in the morning As they hang me from the Gallow's Tree Well I'll fight, fight and die for the honour to be free x4 Hey
Writer(s): Daniel Booth, Ken Bonsall Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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