| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 4:56 | 
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How's it going there everybody?
You're very welcome to this evening's cabaret I want to thank you for the trouble you're after taking To come and hear me play I know the effort that you make and all the trouble that you have to take When you decide you're gonna go and see a show Your wife says Oh not Christy Moore, we've seen him loads of times before And we're going to miss Gay Byrne on the Late Late Show Well there's people here upon my word from every corner of the world Portarlington Portlaoise and Tullamore From Two Mile House and Poulaphouca From Blacktrench Cutbush and Boolea Such a crowd I've never seen before Well you are welcome welcome everyone Special branch you're on the run Fine Gael, Fianna Fail or Sinn Fein When the elections are all over We'll all be pushing up clover And everyone in the graveyard votes the same My belly thought my throat was cut And all the restaurants were shut as I was driving out through Kinnegad So I drove on to Mother Hubbard's where I saw a swarm of truckers And I said to myself this place doesn't look too bad In came a 40ft lorry leaking lines of slurry And the king of the road jumped down and he said to me Hey John, don't I know your face Are you Paddy Reilly or Brendan Grace? Are you Mary Black or Freddy White says he Wait til I tell you what happened to me today I was coming up the dual carriageway Half a mile the far side on Naas The Irish Army, they were all over the place So I pulled in and rolled my window down The saighdiuiri they surrounded my car I thought it was the third world war Some of the boys were throwin Shi'ite shapes I said brigadier general what appears to be the trouble He said "Don't forget your shovel" Have you any auld autographs or tapes? I do.. what about the leb? |
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2. |
| 3:35 |
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For all of our languages we can't communicate
For all of our native tongues we're all natives here Sons of their fathers' dream the same dream The sound of forbidden words becomes a scream Voices in anger, victims of history Plundered and set aside, grow fat on swallowed pride With promises of paradise and gifts of beads and knives Missionaries and pioneers are soldiers in disguise Saviours and Conquerers, they make us wait Like fishers of men they wave their truth like bait But with the touch of a stranger's hand innocence turns to shame The spirit that dwelt within now sleeps out in the rain For all of our languages we can't communicate, For all of our native tongues, we're all natives here The scars of the past are slow to disappear The cries of the dead are always in our ears And only the very safe can talk about wrong and right Of those who are forced to choose, some will choose to fight |
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| 3. |
| 5:51 |
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It was Christmas Eve, babe, in the drunk tank
An old man said, "Son, I won't see another one" And then he sang a song, a rare old mountain tune I turned my eyes away, and I thought about you I got on a lucky one, came in at 18/1 I've got a feeling this year's for me and you So Happy Christmas, I love you baby There's going to be good times When all our dreams come true. They've got cars big as bars They've got rivers of gold But the wind blows right through you It's no place for the old When I first took your hand on a cold Christmas Eve I told you that Broadway was waiting for me. You were handsome and pretty, queen of New York city When the band finished playing, the crowd howled for more Sinatra was swinging, and the crowd they were singing We kissed on the corner and danced round the floor. And the boys from the New York police choir were singin' Galway Bay And the bells were ringin' out on Christmas Day I could have been someone and so could anyone I took my dreams from you when I first met you I kept them with me, babe, and put them with my own I can't make it all alone I've built my dreams around you. You're a bum you're a punk you're an aul hoor on junk Lyin' there on the drip nearly dead in the bed You scumbag you maggot you cheap lousy faggot Happy Christmas me arse, I would rather be dead... And the boys from the New York police choir were singin' Galway Bay And the bells were ringin' out on Christmas Day |
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| 4. |
| 4:35 |
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I dreamt a dream the other night I couldn't sleep a wink
The rats were tryin' to count the sheep and I was off the drink There were footsteps in the parlour and voices on the stairs I was climbin' up the walls and movin' round the chairs. I looked out from under the blanket up at the fireplace. The Pope and John F. Kennedy were starin' in me face.* Suddenly it dawned at me I was getting the old D.T.s When the Child o' Prague began to dance around the mantlepiece. CHORUS Goodbye to the Port and Brandy, to the Vodka and the Stag, To the Schmiddick and the Harpic, the bottled draught and keg. As I sat lookin' up the Guinness ad I could never figure out How your man stayed up on the surfboard after 14 pints of stout. Well I swore upon the bible I'd never touch a drop. My heart was palpitatin' I was sure 'twas going to stop, Thinkin' I was dyin' I gave my soul to God to keep. A tenner to St. Anthony to help me get some sleep. I fell into an awful nightmare - got a dreadful shock. When I dreamt there was no Duty-free at the airport down in Knock. George Seawright was sayin' the rosary and SPUC were on the pill.** Frank Patterson was gargled and he singin' Spancil Hill. CHORUS I dreamt that Mr. Haughey had recaptured Crossmaglen Then Garret got re-elected and gave it back again. Dick Spring and Roger Casement were on board the Marita-Ann As she sailed into Fenit they were singin' Banna Strand. I dreamt Archbishop McNamara was on Spike Island for 3 nights Havin' been arrested for supportin' Traveller's rights. I dreamt that Ruairi Quinn was smokin' marijuana in the Dail Barry Desmond handin' Frenchies out to scuts in Fianna Fail. CHORUS I dreamt of Nell McCafferty and Mary Kenny too The things that we got up to, but I'm not tellin' you. I dreamt I was in a jacuzzi along with Alice Glenn 'twas then I knew I'd never ever, ever drink again. CHORUS |
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| 5. |
| 2:43 |
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Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands And I love the ground whereon she stands. I love my love and well she knows; I love the ground whereon she goes I wish the day it soon would come When she and I could be as one. I go the Clyde and I mourn and weep For satisfied I never can be I write her a letter, just a few short lines And suffer death a thousand times. Black is the colour of my true love's hair Her lips are like some roses fair She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands And I love the ground whereon she stands. |
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| 6. |
| 3:19 |
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In nineteen hundred and eighty six
There's not much for a chippie but swinging a pick And you can't live on love, on love alone So you sail cross the ocean, away cross the foam To where you're a Paddy, a Biddy or a Mick Good for nothing but stacking a brick Your best mate's a spade and he carries a hod Two work horses heavily shod Oh I'm missing you I'd give all for the price of a flight Oh I'm missing you under Piccadilly's neon Who did you murder, are you a spy? I'm just fond of a drink helps me laugh, helps me cry So I just drink red biddy for a permanent high I laugh a lot less and I'll cry till I die All ye young people now take my advice Before crossing the ocean you'd better think twice Cause you can't live without love, without love alone The proof is round London in the nobody zone Where the summer is fine, but the winter's a fridge Wrapped up in old cardboard under Charing Cross Bridge And I'll never go home now because of the shame Of misfit's reflection in a shop window pane |
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| 7. |
| 2:21 | 
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| 8. |
| 5:35 |
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| 9. |
| 2:07 |
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| 10. |
| 3:52 |
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| 11. |
| 2:51 |
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Em
INTRO: Fingerpick [Em-C-D-Em] [Em]True you ride the finest horse [C] I've ever seen [D]Standing sixteen one or two with [Em]eyes wild and green You ride the horse so well [C] hands light to the touch [D]I could ne---ver go with you no matter how I [Em]wanted to CHORUS [Em]Ride on, [C] see you, [D]I could ne---ver go with you no matter how I [Em]wanted to When you ride into the night without a trace behind Run your claw along my gut, one last time I turn to face an empty space, where once you used to lie And look for a spark that lights the dark Through a teardrop in my eye Chorus |
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| 12. |
| 5:33 |
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| 13. |
| 5:05 |
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It was in the year of '88 in the lovely month of June
When the gadflies were swarming and dogs howling at the moon With rosary beads and sandwiches for Stuttgart we began Joxer packed his German phrasebook and jumpleads for the van. Some of the lads had never been away from home before 'Twas the first time Whacker put his foot outside of Inchicore Before we left for Europe we knew we'd need a plan So we all agreed that Joxer was the man to drive the van. In Germany the autobahn, 'twas like the Long Mile Road There was every make of car and van all carrying the full load Ford Transits and Hiaces and an old Bedford from Tralee With the engine overheating from longhauling duty free. There was fans from Ballygermot, Ballybough and Ballymun On the journey of a lifetime, and the crack was ninety-one Joxer met a German's daughter on the banks of the river Rhine And he told her she'd be welcome in Ballyfermot any time. As soon as we found Stuttgart we got the wagons in a ring Sean Og got out the banjo and Peter played the mandolin There was fans there from everywhere attracted by the sound At the first Fleadh Ceoil in Europe, and Joxer passed the flagon round. But the session it ended when we'd finished all the stout The air mattresses inflated and the sleeping bags rolled out As one by one we fell asleep Joxer had a dream He dreamt himself and Jack Charlton sat down to pick the team. Joxer dreamt they both agreed on Packie Bonner straightaway And that Moran, Whelan and McGrath were certainly to play But tempers they began to rise and patience wearing thin Jack wanted Cascarino but Joxer wanted Quinn. The dream turned into a nightmare, Joxer stuck the head on Jack Who wanted to bring Johnny Giles and Eamon Dunphy back The cock crew in the morning, it crew both loud and shrill Joxer woke up in his sleeping bag many miles from Arbour Hill. The next morning none of the experts gave us the slightest chance They said the English team would lead us on a merry dance With their Union Jacks all them English fans for victory they were set Until Ray Houghton got the ball and he stuck it in the net. What happened next is history, brought tears to many eyes That day will be the highlight of many people's lives Joxer climbed right over the top and the last time he was seen Was arm in arm with Jack Charlton singing, Revenge for Skibereen. Now Whacker's back in Inchicore, he's living with his mam And Jack Charlton has been proclaimed an honorary Irishman Do you remember that German's daughter on the banks of the river Rhine Well, didn't she show up in Ballyfermot last week and ... |
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| 14. |
| 3:33 |
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Of all the stars that ever shone
Not one does twinkle like your pale blue eyes Like golden corn at harvest time your hair Sailing in my boat the wind Gently blows and fills my sail Your sweet-scented breath is everywhere Daylight peeping through the curtain Of the passing night time is your smile And the sun in the sky is like your laugh Come back to me my Nancy Linger for just a little while Since you left these shores I've known no peace Nor joy Chorus: No matter where I wander I'm still haunted by your name The portrait of your beauty stays the same Standing by the ocean wondering where you've gone, if you'll return again Where is the ring I gave to Nancy Spain On the day in Spring when snow starts to melt And streams to flow With the birds I'll sing this song Then in the while I'll wander Down by bluebell stream where wild flowers grow And I'll hope that lovely Nancy will return Chorus |
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