Skibbereen, a tale of troubles & famine (mastered) lyrics

©2006...2017 copyright Irish Roots Cafe, all audio and video items are in the public domain, used with permission, or property of the Irish Roots Cafe. False copyright claims are actionable.
This famous tune is in the public domain, being well over 100 yrs. old. This particular vocal sound recording is copyrighted by Michael C. O'Laughlin, vocalist.
(see lyrics below) This video is about Skibbereen, a tale of troubles and famine. This is the studio mastered version of Skibbereen, by Mike O'Laughlin, at the Irish Roots Cafe. The terrible devastation suffered by this Irish village during the famine has been well documented and remembered to this day. Accounts appeared in the papers, not only in Ireland but in England, describing the terrible plight here. The story begins with a child asking his father to explain why they left Ireland, and why his father speaks so romantically about that country. In the fathers answer is the tale that should never be forgotten, fittingly recorded here. From the album "Irish Old Style.....". Lyrics:
Oh, Father dear, I oft times hear you talk of Erin's Isle,
Her lofty scenes, her valleys green, her mountains rude and wild
They say it is a pretty place where in a prince might dwell,
Oh, then why did you abandon it, the reason do me tell?
Oh, son I loved my native land with energy and pride
'Til a blight came upon my crops, and the sheep and cattle died,
The rent and taxes were so pay, I could not them redeem,
And that's the cruel reason why, I left old Skibbereen.
Oh, It's well I do remember, that cold December day,
The landlord and the sheriff came, to drive us all away
They set my roof on fire, with their demon yellow spleen
And that's another reason why I left old Skibbereen.
Your mother too, God rest her soul, fell on the snowy ground,
She fainted o'er in anguish, desolation all around.
She did not rise, but passed away, from life to immortal dream,
She found a quiet grave, my boy, in dear old Skibbereen.
And you were only two years old and feeble was your frame,
I could not leave you with my friends, for you bore your father's name,
I wrapped you in my cóta mór in the dead of night unseen
and heaved a sigh, and said goodbye, to dear old Skibbereen
Its well I do remember, the year of '48
When erins sons they rose again
to battle against their fate
I was hunted through the mountains
as a traitor to the queen
And thats another reason why
I left old Skibbereen.
Oh father dear, the day will come when vengeance loud will call
and Erins sons will rally round, together one and all
and I will be the man to lead the van, beneath the flag of green
And loud and high we'll raise the cry,
Revenge for Skibbereen!

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A tragic and little known part of history.