| lyric | 1. Oh, who will plough the field now, or who will well the corn?
Oh, who will wash the sheep now and have them nicely shorn?
The stak that’s in the haggard, untrash’d it may remain.
Since Johnny went atrashing the dirty king of Spain.
2. The girls from the bawnoge in sorrow may retire,
And the piper and his bellows may go home and blow the fire;
For Johnny, lovely Johnny, is sailing o’er the Main,
Along with other patriots, to fight the King of Spain.
3. The boys will sorely miss him when Moneymore comes round,
And grieve that their bold captain is nowhere to be found.
The peelers must stand idle against their will and grain, '
For the valiant boy who gave them work now peels the King of Spain.
4. At wakes or hurling-matches your like we’ll never see,
Till you come back to us again, astoirin 6g mo chroi,
And won’t you trounce the buckeens that show us much disdain,
Because our eyes are not so bright as those you’ll meet in Spain.
5.If cruel fate will not permit our Johnny to return,
His heavy loss we Bantry girls will never cease to mourn.
We’ll resign ourselves to our sad lot, and die in grief and pain,
Since Johnny died for Ireland’s pride in the foreign land of Spain. |