Lyrics
Then a jig was danced, sent many to die in the fog
they left to find a place to stand
First they had to face their american wake, in the year of forty seven a new tradition came home
And gathered their friends around, sent many to die in the fog
for the father to face the son
With everything they could take, they got their affairs in order Elders, they left to find a place to stand
and gathered their friends around
In the rising of the sun, some only had tears and a prayer, in the year of forty seven a new tradition came home
As the minutes passed by they tried to deny, with everything they could take
like a walking corpse behind the horse
there were blessings and toasts
The famine was willed by god, they never went back to their native land
With everything they could take, they left to find a place to stand, an eleven week ride when they caught the tide
They never went back to their native land, they never went back to their native land, the tory crimes of the london times
An eleven week ride when they caught the tide, in the rising of the sun
An american wake was all they had, an american wake was all they had
As the keener wailed they could count the sails, a last chance to look them in the eye
They buried old ghosts, as the minutes passed by they tried to deny, now some gave gifts for the journey
and they drank to the now and then
For the hunger that stalked their bones, they would never see ireland again, like a walking corpse behind the horse
For the hunger that stalked their bones, then a jig was danced The, sent many to die in the fog
Some only had tears and a prayer, as the keener wailed they could count the sails American, now some gave gifts for the journey