Songs for big match

Amhrán na bhFiann

Sinne Fianna Fáil,
Atá faoi gheall ag Éirinn,
Buíon dár slua
Thar tionn do ráinig chugainn
Faoi mhóid bheith saor,
Sean-tír ár sinsear feasta
Ní fhágfar faoin tíorán ná faoin tráill.
Anocht a théam sa bhearna baoil
Le gean ar Ghaeil chun báis nó saoil
Le gunna scréach faoi lámhach na bpiléar,
Seo libh canaig amhrán na bhFiann.

The Boys from the County Armagh

There's one fair county in Ireland,
with memories so glorious and grand,
where nature has lavished its bounty,
in the orchard of Erin's green land,
I love its cathedral and city,
once founded by Patrick so true,
and in the heart of its bosom,
are the ashes of Brian Boru.

Chorus

It's my old Irish home,
far across the foam,
although I've often left it,
in foreign lands to roam,
no matter where I wander,
through cities near and far,
still my heart it rests in old Ireland,
in the county of Armagh.

I've travelled three parts of its county,
through Newtown, Forkhill, Crossmaglen,
around by the gap of Mountnorris,
and home by Blackwater again,
where the girls are so gay and so hearty,
none fairer in Erin go bragh,
but where are the boys that can court them,
like the boys from the county Armagh!

Chorus

A Nation Once Again

When boyhood's fire was in my blood,
I read of ancient freemen,
for Greece and Rome who bravely stood,
three hundred men and three men,
and then I prayed I yet might see,
our fetters rent in twain,
and Ireland long a province be,
a Nation once again!

Chorus

A Nation once again,
a Nation once again,
and Ireland long a province be,
a Nation once again,

and from that time through wildest woe,
that hope has shone a far light,
nor could love's brightest summer glow,
outshine that solemn starlight,
it seemed to watch above my head,
in forum, field and fane,
it's angel voice sang round my bed,
a Nation once again!

Chorus

It whisper'd, too, that freedom's ark,
and service high and holy,
would be profaned by feelings dark,
and passions vain or lowly;
for, freedom comes from Gods right hand,
and needs a godly train,
and righteous men must make our land,
a Nation once again!

Chorus

So as I grew from boy to man,
I bent me to that bidding,
my spirit of each selfish plan,
and cruel passion ridding,
for thus I hoped, some day to aid,
oh, can such hope be in vain,
when my dear country shall be made,
a Nation once again!

Chorus

The Green Fields of France

Well, how do you do, young Willie McBride,
Do you mind if I sit here down by your graveside,
And rest for a while 'neath the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day and I'm nearly done.
I see by your gravestone you were only nineteen,
When you joined the great fallen in nineteen-sixteen,
I hope you died well and I hope you died clean,
O young Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Chorus

Did they beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the Dead March as they lowered you down?
And did the band play the Last Post and chorus?
Did they pipes play the 'Flowers of the Forest'?

And did you leave a wife or sweet-heart behind?
In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined?
Although you died back in nineteen-sixteen,
In that faithful heart are you forever nineteen?
Or are you a stranger without even a name?
Enclosed and forever behind the glass frame,
In an old photograph, torn and battered and stained,
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame.

Chorus

The sun now it shines on the green fields of France,
There's a warm summer breeze, it makes the red poppies dance,
And look how the sun shines from under the clouds,
There's no gas, no barbed wire, there's no guns firing now,
But there in this graveyard it's still no-man's land,
The countless white crosses stand mute in the sand,
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man,
To a whole generation that were butchered and damned.

Chorus

Now young Willie McBride, I can't help wonder why,
Do all those who lie here know why did they die?
And did they believe, when they answered the cause?
Did they really believe that this war would end wars?
Well, the sorrows, the suffering, the glory, the pain,
The killing and dying was all done in vain,
For young Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again and again and again and again.

Chorus