Come on, lads, get your shovel and cart, move your tired legs
This work is hard, it comes straight from our hearts
Come on, folks, let’s stab the peat in the fields
Work to the beat, can’t you feel the heat
This is where we belong, we have to sing this song
In memory of James Brian, who came to Inishmore
He found his true love in 1854
The hot-blooded lad should have listened to what we said
He worked during the night and now he is dead
Drop your shovel when the Sun goes down and bring the crop
Back to town and don’t you dare to slow down
Something lurks in the nightly bog, it traps you with its voice
And drags you into the fog, take a look at the clock
This is where we belong, we have to sing this song
Oh, my love, why did you stay
I cannot live alone
It hurts so much when I pray
I'm begging for you to come home
I won’t find a love no more
You were the one I lived for
But I will give you my most honest word
The story of James Brian will be heard
