Limerick Songs

Limerick, Your'e a Lady

Chorus

Limerick, Your'e a Lady,

Your Shannon Water, tears of joy that flow,

The beauty, that surronds you,

I'll take it with me love where 'ere I go,

While waking in the arms of distant waters

A new day finds me far away from home,

Then Limerick, you're my lady,

The one true love that I have ever known.

As children you and I spent endless days of fun,

In winter's snow or summer's golden sun,

We fished in silver streams, the fabric of my dreams,

Was fashioned by your loveliness and so I have to say

Chorus

A gift that time has made to travellers on their way,

Seeking out the beauty of our land

A shrine where children pray and bells ring out to say

Thank God ,we're living just to feel the freedom of each day.

Chorus

Sean South

It was on a dreary New Years Eve
As the shade of night fell down
A lorry load of volunteers
Approached the border town
There was men from Dublin and from Cork
Fermanagh and Tyrone
And their leader was a Limerick man
Sean South from Garryowen

And as they moved along the street up to the barrack door
They scorned the danger that they would meet

And the fate that lay in store

They were fighting for Old Ireland

To claim their very own

And the foremost of that gallant band

Was South from Garryowen.

But the Sergeant foiled their daring plan
He spied them through the door
Then the rifle and the stenguns fired
A hail of death did pour
And when that awful night had passed
Two men lay cold as stone
There was one from near the border
And one from Garryowen

No more he'll hear the seagulls cry
Or the murmuring Shannon's tide
For he fell beneath the northern sky
Brave Hanlon by his side
He has gone to join that gallant band
Of Plunkett, Pearse and Tone
Another martyr for old Ireland
Sean South from Garryowen

Lament For Mick Mackey

From lovely Castleconnell where the lovely Shannon flows
Came a prince of Irelands hurlers whose name forever glows
His skill and craft and valour is known throughout the land,
This man who held a hurley then just like a magic wand. Twas in the early thirties that Mick Mackey hit the scene
This youth, a hurling genius in Limericks white and green.
His name is proudly written now in letters made of gold
His deeds at home and o'er the foam will be forever told. Twas a sad day in September in the year of eighty two
This giant of our national game met with his maker true.
And thousands from the Shannon side and places far away,
Went down to bid a fond adieu and a lovely tribute pay. In Limericks golden era of this grand old hurling game,
The Mackey's and the Clohessey's have won eternal fame.
The Ryans, Mick and Timmy then who played a gallant role,
And the mighty Paddy Scanlon too, defiant in the goal. So farewell to you Mick Mackey as you cross the great divide,
Where hurlers of those happy days will gather by your side
And the stalwart men from Fedamore, Ahane and sweet Adare
Will all line up to welcome you, the hurling cavalier