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Christy Moore – The Hackler From Grouse Hall lyrics
I am a roving hackler lad that loves the shamrock shore
My name is Pat Mcdonnell and my age is eighty-four;
Belov'd and well-respected by my neighbours one and all
On St. Patrick's day I loved to stray round Lavey and Grouse Hall
When I was young I danced and sung and drank good whiskey, too
Each síbín shop that sold a drop of the real old mountain dew
With the poitín still on every hill the peelers had no call
Round sweet Stradone I am well known, round Lavey and Grouse Hall
I rambled round from town to town for hackling was my trade
None can deny I think that I an honest living made;
Where e'er I'd stay by night or day the youth wud always call
To have some crack with Paddy Jack, the hackler from Grouse Hall
I think it strange how times have changed so very much of late
Coercion now is all the row and Peelers on their bate
To take a glass is now, alas, the greatest crime of all
Since Balfour placed that hungry beast the Sergeant of Grouse Hall
The busy tool of Castle rule he travels night and day
He'll seize a goat just by the throat for want of better prey;
The nasty skunk, he'll swear you're drunk tho' you took none at all
There is no peace about the place since he came to Grouse Hall
'Twas on pretence of this offence he dragged me off to jail
Alone to dwell in a cold cell my fate for to bewail
My hoary head on a plank bed, such wrongs for vengeance call
He'll rue the day he dragged away the hackler from Grouse Hall
He haunts the League just like a plague, and shame for to relate
The priest can't be on Sunday free the Mass to celebrate
It's there he'll kneel encased in steel prepared on duty's call
For to assail and drag to jail our clergy from Grouse Hall
Down into hell he'd run pell-mell to hunt for poitín there
And won't be loath to swear an oath 'twas found in Killinkere
He'll search your bed from foot to head, sheets, blankets, tick and all
Your wife, undressed, must leave the nest for Jemmy of Grouse Hall
He fixed a plan for one poor man who had a handsome wife
To take away without delay her liberty and life
He'd swear quite plain that he's insane and got no sense at all
As he has done of late with one convenient to Grouse Hall
Thank God the day's not far away when Home Rule will be seen
And brave Parnell at home will dwell and shine in College Green;
Our policemen will all be then our nation's choice and all
Old Balfour's pack will get the sack and banished from Grouse Hall
Let old and young clear out their lungs and sing this little song
Come join with me and let him see you all resent the wrong
And while I live I'll always give a prayer for his downfall
And when I die I don't deny I'll haunt him from Grouse hall
My name is Pat Mcdonnell and my age is eighty-four;
Belov'd and well-respected by my neighbours one and all
On St. Patrick's day I loved to stray round Lavey and Grouse Hall
When I was young I danced and sung and drank good whiskey, too
Each síbín shop that sold a drop of the real old mountain dew
With the poitín still on every hill the peelers had no call
Round sweet Stradone I am well known, round Lavey and Grouse Hall
I rambled round from town to town for hackling was my trade
None can deny I think that I an honest living made;
Where e'er I'd stay by night or day the youth wud always call
To have some crack with Paddy Jack, the hackler from Grouse Hall
I think it strange how times have changed so very much of late
Coercion now is all the row and Peelers on their bate
To take a glass is now, alas, the greatest crime of all
Since Balfour placed that hungry beast the Sergeant of Grouse Hall
The busy tool of Castle rule he travels night and day
He'll seize a goat just by the throat for want of better prey;
The nasty skunk, he'll swear you're drunk tho' you took none at all
There is no peace about the place since he came to Grouse Hall
'Twas on pretence of this offence he dragged me off to jail
Alone to dwell in a cold cell my fate for to bewail
My hoary head on a plank bed, such wrongs for vengeance call
He'll rue the day he dragged away the hackler from Grouse Hall
He haunts the League just like a plague, and shame for to relate
The priest can't be on Sunday free the Mass to celebrate
It's there he'll kneel encased in steel prepared on duty's call
For to assail and drag to jail our clergy from Grouse Hall
Down into hell he'd run pell-mell to hunt for poitín there
And won't be loath to swear an oath 'twas found in Killinkere
He'll search your bed from foot to head, sheets, blankets, tick and all
Your wife, undressed, must leave the nest for Jemmy of Grouse Hall
He fixed a plan for one poor man who had a handsome wife
To take away without delay her liberty and life
He'd swear quite plain that he's insane and got no sense at all
As he has done of late with one convenient to Grouse Hall
Thank God the day's not far away when Home Rule will be seen
And brave Parnell at home will dwell and shine in College Green;
Our policemen will all be then our nation's choice and all
Old Balfour's pack will get the sack and banished from Grouse Hall
Let old and young clear out their lungs and sing this little song
Come join with me and let him see you all resent the wrong
And while I live I'll always give a prayer for his downfall
And when I die I don't deny I'll haunt him from Grouse hall
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/c/christy_moore/the_hackler_from_grouse_hall.html