About "Collection, Pt. 2" album:
This page contains lyrics from the album
"Collection, Pt. 2" by Christy Moore, which was released in 2008 and consists of 9 songs.
Blackjack County Chains
I was sittin' beside the road in Black Jack County.
Not knowing that the Sheriff paid a bounty,
For men like me that hadn't got a penny to their name.
So he locked my leg to 35 pounds of Black Jack County
And all we had to eat was bread and water,
Each day we built the road a mile and a quarter,
A Black Snake Whip would cut the back of any man who
One summer evening drunk as hell,
I sat there nearly lifeless.
An old man in the corner sang,
Where the water lilies grow.
On the jukebox Johnny sang,
About a thing called love.
And it's "how are you kid? What's your name?
And what do you know?"
In blood and death 'neath a screaming sky,
I lay down on the ground.
A girl cries in the early morning
Woken by the sound of a gun
She knows somewhere somebody's dying
Beneath the rising sun
Outside the window of her cabaņa
The shadows are full of her fears
She knows her lover is out there somewhere
He's been on the run for a year
A young man fell in love with truth
In searching th wide world for her
He found her in the small house
In the clearing
In the forest
She was old and she was stooped
He pledged himself to her
To chop the wood and carry the water
Years went by until one day
He was Lawless by name, Lawless by nature,
He was trouble right from the start.
Hard as nails, runnin' wild through the streets
He was breakin' his poor mother's heart.
Nature played a trick on Lawless
And the humour of nature is cruel.
He grew up as we all had expected -
Into a dangerous fool.
He was a hard man, a man for all seasons,
Rose Of Tralee
Listen for a while
And I'll tell you the story
Of How I fell in love with The Rose Of Tralee
It was about five o'clock in the morning
I was only after gettin' off the mail boat.
I was walking down the North Wall
Minding me own business
With me suitcase under me arm
Sitting down every minute
Smoke and Strong Whiskey
Kids wear white garters and smell like their mothers
Whose husbands and fathers alike
Drink black beer in the same public houses
Smelling of smoke and strong whiskey
Mammies and daddies and skipping ropes
Lectures from priests living in hope
They've not mistaken the brand of their coats
Paid for by their spiritual teachings
A busy year this, the streets running red
How many sent to a nuptial bed
St. Brendans Voyage
A boat sailed out of Brandon in the year of 501
'Twas a damp and dirty mornin' Brendan's voyage it bega
Tired of thinnin' turnips and cuttin' curley kale
When he got back from the creamery he hoisted up the sail.
He ploughed a lonely furrow to the north, south, east and west
Of all the navigators, St, Brendan was the best.
When he ran out of candles he was forced to make a stop,
He tied up in Long Island and put America on the map.
Did you know that Honolulu was found by a Kerryman,
Who went on to find Australia then China and Japan.
More albums from Christy Moore: