Liricí:
Ó chaitheas-sa seal i measc na bPoncán
Oh I spent some time in the land of the Yanks
Ag codail amuigh fé chrann mo dhóchais
Sleeping out under the tree of my hopes
Ag réabadh fallaí a thóg m’athair romham
Tearing down walls that my father before me had built
Idir é is an doicheall i bhfuinneog a súl.
[Caught] between him and suspicion in the window of their eyes.
Curfá:
‘Sea thugadar go fial dúinn a raibh acu le tabhairt:
Yeah, they generously gave us what they had to give:
Bata is bóthar is fonn [dul] abhaile.
The stick and the road and the longing to go home.
“’Téir abhaile go h-ifreann is fan sa bhaile in Éirinn. “
“Go home to hell and stay home in Ireland.”
Is chuas ina dhiaidh sin go Londain groí
And I went after that to greater London
Mo dhá láimh lom is mé liom féin.
My two hands empty and me all alone.
Dá mbeinnse céad bliain ag doras Sheáin Bhuí
If I were a hundred years [standing] at the door of John Bull
Ní bhfaighinn bheith istigh i ngar dá chroí .
I [still] wouldn’t get close to his heart.
Curfá
Is chuas ina dhiadh sin go deireadh an domhain
And I went after that to the end of the world
Ag luí béal faoi i bpoll an uaignis
[Where I was] lying face down in the pool of loneliness
Ag scríobadh na cré i dtrínse ró mhór
Scraping at the clay in a trench that was too big
A bhí chomh cúng le huaigh mo linbh.
[Yet] that was just as narrow as the grave of my child.
Curfá
Is bhíos-sa lá i dtír na ndall
And one day I was in the land of the blind
Ag iarraidh dídean ó racht na farraige
Looking for shelter from the rage of the sea.
Ní bhfuaireas-sa ann ach airgead ag méileach.
Nothing did I find there but money whining
Is fliuchadh mo bhéil de mo dheora féin.
And my mouth getting drenched with my very own tears.
‘Sea thugamar go fial dóibh a raibh againn le tabhairt:
Yeah, we generously them what they had to give:
Bata is bóthar is fonn abhaile.
The stick and the road and the longing to go home.
“’Téir abhaile go h-ifreann is fan sa bhaile as Éirinn.”
“Go home to hell and stay at home out of Ireland.”
