Off to Dublin in the Green Songtext
von The Dubliners
Off to Dublin in the Green Songtext
Oh, I am a merry ploughboy and I plough the fields all day
Till a sudden thought came to my head, that I should roam away
For I'm sick and tired of slavery since the day that I was born
And I'm off to join the IRA and I'm off tomorrow morn
And we're all off to Dublin in the green, in the green
Where the helmets glisten in the sun
Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash
To the rattle of a Thompson gun
I'll leave aside me pick and spade, I'll leave aside me plough
I'll leave aside me horse and yoke, I no longer need them now
I'll leave aside me Mary, she's the girl that I adore
And I wonder if she'll think of me when she'll hear the rifles roar
And we're all off to Dublin in the green, in the green
Where the helmets glisten in the sun
Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash
To the rattle of a Thompson gun
And when the war is over and dear old Ireland is free
I'll take her to the church to wed and a rebel's wife she'll be
Well, some men fight for silver and some men fight for gold
But the IRA are fighting for the land that the Freestaters stole
And we're all off to Dublin in the green, in the green
Where the helmets glisten in the sun
Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash
To the rattle of a Thompson gun
Till a sudden thought came to my head, that I should roam away
For I'm sick and tired of slavery since the day that I was born
And I'm off to join the IRA and I'm off tomorrow morn
And we're all off to Dublin in the green, in the green
Where the helmets glisten in the sun
Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash
To the rattle of a Thompson gun
I'll leave aside me pick and spade, I'll leave aside me plough
I'll leave aside me horse and yoke, I no longer need them now
I'll leave aside me Mary, she's the girl that I adore
And I wonder if she'll think of me when she'll hear the rifles roar
And we're all off to Dublin in the green, in the green
Where the helmets glisten in the sun
Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash
To the rattle of a Thompson gun
And when the war is over and dear old Ireland is free
I'll take her to the church to wed and a rebel's wife she'll be
Well, some men fight for silver and some men fight for gold
But the IRA are fighting for the land that the Freestaters stole
And we're all off to Dublin in the green, in the green
Where the helmets glisten in the sun
Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash
To the rattle of a Thompson gun
Writer(s): JOHN EDMUND SHEAHAN, RONALD JOSEPH DREW, BARNEY MCKENNA, JOHN EDMUND SHEEHAN, LUKE KELLY, CIARAN PADRAIG MAIRE BOURKE Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com