Tradycyjne - The Fair At Turloughmore

1. Come tell me, dearest mother,
what makes my father stay
Or what can be the reason
that he's been so long away?
O hold your tongue, my darling son,
your tears do grieve me sore
I fear he has been murdered
at the fair of Turloughmore.

2. Come all you tender Christians
I hope you will draw near
It's of this dreadful murder
I mean to let you hear
Concerning those poor people
whose loss we do deplore
The Lord have mercy on their souls,
they died at Turloughmore.

3. 'Twas on the first of August
the truth I will declare
Those people they assembled that day
all at the fair
But little was their notion
what evil was in store
All by the bloody Peelers
at the fair of Turloughmore.

4. Were you to see that dreadful sight
'twould grieve your heart I know
To see those lovely women
and the men all lying low
God help their tender parents,
they will never see them more
For cruel was their murder
at the fair of Turloughmore.

5. It's for that base bloodthirsty crew
remark the word I say
The Lord he will reward them
against the Judgement Day
The blood they've taken innocent
for it they'll suffer sore
And the treatment that they gave to us
that day at Turloughmore.

6. The morning of their trial
as they stood in the dock
The words they spoke were feeling,
the people round them flock
"I tell you judge and jury,
the truth I will declare
It was Brew that ordered us to fire,
that evening at the fair."

7. Now to conclude and finish
this sad and doleful lay
I hope their souls are happy
against the Judgement Day
It was little time they got,
we know, when they fell like new-mown hay
May the Lord have mercy on their souls
against the Judgment Day.