1. |
||||
It took a lot of love,
To hate you the way I do.
All of your lies,
Are what makes this true.
So I’m moving on
and you’re in the past
when you said forever
it could never last
What once was a dream
became a nightmare
and my heart was broken
and I know you don’t care
CHORUS
you told a lie
every time that he spoke
this game of love
to you is a joke
You said I’m high maintenance
and called me a bitch
but you gave me nothing
except the bad itch
CHORUS
Always sneaking around
with some slut on the side
when you swore to God
I know that you lied
So that whore can have you
because I’m done with you
you can feed her your lines
that are never true
CHORUS
|
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2. |
||||
(CHORUS)
Here’s what I’ve got to say to you,
Justice for the Craigavon Two
Next time it could be me or you,
Let’s have justice for the Craigavon two.
Craigavon 9th March the news man read,
constable Stephen Carroll was shot dead
A police investigation soon began
and they would stop at nothing to get their man
CHORUS
Mc Conville and Wooton got the blame
Since that day their lives have never been the same
The spooks have framed before and they’ll do it again
Unless we come together and break their chains
CHORUS
The trial of these two innocents was a sham
Justice without a jury was the scam
They produced a single witness with bad eyesight
And claimed that he saw everything on that dark and rainy night
CHORUS
Witness ‘Z’ was the father of witness ‘M’
‘My son’s a Walter Mitty’ was his claim
An eye specialist cross examined said the same
That he could not have see clearly in the dark and through the rain
CHORUS
Gerry Conlon, thank you and farewell
You rotted 14 years in a prison cell
For something that you had never done
You drove this campaign hard so it wouldn’t happen to another one
CHORUS
While the British injustice system does prevail
Any one of us can be framed and sent to gaol
The Birmingham 6 and the Guildford 4
Are among the many of whom the Brits have done this kind of thing before
CHORUS
Let’s have justice for the Craigavon two (last line repeats)
|
||||
3. |
PORT OF NEW YORK
03:16
|
|||
The famine came slithering
Like a snake we never knew
We were starving for her majesty
And slaving for her too
But that blight rolled in
Like a 7 year curse
We had no choice but to push off
It really couldn't a been much worse
After weeks in open waters
I came with nothing in my till
But if the English wouldn't feed us
Then I hope Manhattan will
We lost numbers in the colony
Whoa
Casualties of the crown
Whoa
I won't farm the queens barley
Whoa
---------stop------------
You left us in the fields starving
But guess who's going hungry now
---------go--------------
My coffin ship's come in
and I'm hard to port
Laying bricks for food and whiskey
in the city of New York
Theres no living in this city
The rooming sure is tight
But it beats the fuckin mud hut
Where I lost my wife
I've suffered a hundred funerals
Wasn't just crops the fungus killed
But if a famine couldn't break us
Then Manhattan never will
From Baltimore to Boston
Whoa
The story was the same
Whoa
We had to seek a better life
Whoa
------------stop---------
We were not welcome
But you feckin got us now!
|
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4. |
BATTLE LINES
02:46
|
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5. |
||||
6. |
DRUNKEN ENGLISH PUNK
03:32
|
|||
You think you’re clever when you’re drunk,
but you’re just another kilted punk.
You’re not half as good as you think you are,
You’ll never be a punk rock star.
There is a universal curse,
thinking you’re smart makes things worse.
There’s a universal rule of thumb,
that life is harder when you’re dumb.
You can’t drink all day if you don’t start in the morning,
the skull on the bottle should have been a warning.
You’re well past the pint of no return,
but just one more jar is all you yearn.
You think you’re clever when you’re drunk,
but you’re just another kilted punk.
You’re not half as good as you think you are,
You’ll never be a punk rock star.
The power of Christ compels you,
but you listen to what Satan tells you.
Can’t cast him away from your ear,
So have yet another shot and beer.
Bring me the head of the English Rose,
I’ll pluck out his eyes and cut off his nose,
Kick in his teeth and rip out his tongue,
You cannot unring a bell that’s been rung.
You think you’re clever when you’re drunk,
but you’re just another kilted punk.
You’re not half as good as you think you are,
You’ll never be a punk rock star.
|
||||
7. |
SWINE BEFORE PEARLS
04:14
|
|||
8. |
PUNCH A NAZI
02:25
|
|||
When I was a lad on grandpa’s knee
This is what he said to me
Because we live in the land of the free
It’s our duty to punch a nazi
Punch a nazi is what he said
Punch a nazi until he’s dead
Never show them fear nor dread
Upon our honor they’ll never tread
When they give their nazi salute
That’s the time for us to shoot
And give the dirty bastards the boot
Cut out their tongues and leave them mute
Punch a nazi on the beach
Punch a nazi in the breach
Here’s the lesson we’re here to teach
Punch every damn nazi within reach
If you let them have a parade,
Next they’re going to invade,
Put everyone of them to the blade,
Punching nazis is how heroes are made.
Punch a nazi in the head
Punch a nazi until he’s dead
Never show them fear nor dread
Upon our honor they’ll never tread
|
||||
9. |
DANNY BOY
04:00
|
|||
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.
And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
|
||||
10. |
||||
If it ain’t Scottish, it’s crap,
Said the lad in the tartan flat cap,
Who found him a lass,
With a lilly white ass,
Their uglies did bump and slap.
In the hills where the claymore sings,
Those two did many fine things,
When she bent for a thistle,
He produced his love missle,
And they took flight on gossamer wings.
And when she lifted his kilt,
He sheathed his dirk to the hilt,
She moaned with great pleasure,
Receiving his treasure,
For in her his seed was spilt.
If it ain’t Scottish, it’s crap,
Said the lad in the tartan flat cap,
Who found him a lass,
With a lilly white ass,
Their uglies did bump and slap.
“Wa ye think o me phallus?”,
“Well, yer no William Wallace”
Who slid his grand thing,
Into the wife of the king,
And made her his own royal palace.
The lad looked just like Austin Powers,
And shagged his lassie for hours,
And when they were done,
Having their fun,
He picked her a bouquet of flowers.
at the end of their Highland Fling
She said on me finger put a ring
So he ran to the hills
To seek other thrills
He’s the king of his own dingaling
If it ain’t Scottish, it’s crap,
Said the lad in the tartan flat cap,
Who found him a lass,
With a lilly white ass,
Alas she gave him the clap
|
||||
11. |
DRINKING TONIGHT
02:36
|
|||
12. |
SHIPPING UP TO BOSTON
02:15
|
Alternative Ulster New York
Founded in March 2015, Alternative Ulster hails from NY State's Catskill's region. Members are John McGovern on bagpipes and banjo, Todd Henry on vocals and drums and Jay Anderson on guitar and bass as well as all recording and mixing. While recording their Christmas CD, the lads needed a lady for the female lines. Wendy Henry's singing so blew them away that she's now a full member of the band ... more
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