Black 47

Black '47

Black 47


Everything is still
Not a chicken not a body
Just an awful sickenin' silence roarin' in my ears 
And the fog of death deepens and lies upon the land
An ould wan rolls over on her back
The grass stains all green upon her chin I can still hear her keenin' and screamin' in the wind 
God's curse upon you Lord John Russell 
May your blackhearted soul rot in hell 
There's no love left on earth 
And god is dead in heaven 
In the dark and deadly days of Black 47 
God's curse upon you Lord Trevalian 
May your great Queen Victoria rot in hell
'Til England and its Empire 
Answer before heaven 
For the crimes they committed in Black 47 
Paudie says "c'mon now Don't look back, she's not livin', she's a phantom And she'll curse us if we look into her eyes" 
Oh God, I must be dyin' - the fever's in me brain 
For can't you see that pack of children up ahead
The beards of old men sproutin' from their chins 
Can't you hear their screams of hunger on the wind 
Oh darlin' Paudie save me I think I'm sinkin' fast, me blood is boilin'
Don't let me die here in a ditch If the hunger doesn't get me - the fever surely will
So Paudie picked me up and threw me 'cross his shoulders 
He nursed me everyday 'til we reached Amerikay 
Screamin' and shoutin' like a madman at the wind