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Title Appalachian Paddy BuyCD Buy this CD now!

Broadcast Weight: 65.5%
Heavy Rotation

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Album The Elders Hoolie Rating
Year 2012 # Rated
3
Requests 0 Performs
691
Genre Celtic

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Lyrics

Young Dinny McCann, just a sliver of a man, He walks down the road with his fiddle in hand. A beggin for sixpence to help pay for boat To get him to sailin’ high tide To America he go, away from this hole That killed his young sister and shattered his soul. His mother and father he buried in ground He’ll remember with honor and pride A long stormy night, a long voyage he sailed His fiddle in hand was all that he hailed He played through the night, and saw a smile from a child Gave hope to the lost and forsaken As they pray on their knees, many souls lost at sea The sighting of land will bring tears to the free With hope in their hearts and screams of delight They will dance on the decks of the Erin Chorus; Put your arms around each other And sing to the angels up high Shake your fist at the devil and begrudgers Give a kiss to the one by your side In a bar on the hill, schlligin’ juice from a still He hears a young lad play an Appalachian fill To Dinny he cried what is in that black case ‘Tis me fiddle from my mother Ireland Well break it on out he declares with a shout Let’s dig for the gold with our strings and a stout We’ll play ‘til we bleed or break an ould string Our ghosts will move on to the new land Chorus; Put your arms around each other And sing to the angels up high Shake your fist at the devil and begrudgers Give a kiss to the one by your side I’m playin da string with me father’s bow in a land so far from home A sippin’ a drop a da potteen, playin’ da music from ma soul Flannigan, Donnigan, Finnegan’s wake and all the tunes are known Irish Whiskey Irish music till the morning Maggie O’Connor jumps up on the table and dances a slippery Jig Her arms and legs a swinging with her lips wrapped round a cig Flannigan, Donnigan, Finnegan’s wake and all the tunes are known Irish Whiskey Irish music till the morning Well this is our mountain music we be playin here so long Our plantin’ and a seedin’ all recorded in our song We work our fingers to the bone and praise the Lord each day ‘Til the sun come up and the moon goes down drinkin’ moonshine rakin’ hay Well a simple life we choose to live and treat your woman well Don’t raise your hand to child nor dog your soul will go to hell Just work your fingers to the bone and praise the Lord each day ‘Til the sun come up and the moon goes down drinkin’ moonshine rakin’ hay

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