Ghosts of our Past Lyrics

Dockside Lullabies

Lyrics by Ronan MacManus

 

I hear you knocking but you can’t come in

Don’t tell ‘em where you live you gotta shed your skin

Liverpool echoes to the sound of drums

& if you wanna work then don’t sing your songs

Dockside lullabies (too ra loo ra)

Dockside lullabies (too ra loo ra)

Dockside lullabies (too ra loo ra)

Dockside lullabies in my head

Walking down the dockside you could be walking through the Bogside

Change your name, play the game, don’t get on the wrong side

Liverpool echoes to the sound of drums

You’re staring down the barrel of a Thompson Gun

Dockside lullabies (too ra loo ra)

Dockside lullabies (too ra loo ra)

Dockside lullabies (too ra loo ra)

Dockside lullabies in my head

Liverpool echoes to the sound of drums

Keep your face hidden when the boss man comes

Dockside lullabies (too ra loo ra)

Dockside lullabies (too ra loo ra)

Dockside lullabies (too ra loo ra)

Dockside lullabies in my head

Dockside lullabies (too ra loo ra)

Dockside lullabies (too ra loo ra)

Dockside lullabies (too ra loo ra)

　

　

Boys of Queens

Lyrics by Andy Nolan

 

The morning’s here, the whiskey’s gone there’s nothing left to say

As I grab my coat, fall off the stool and go to walk away

Just one final look around this bar lie a million broken dreams

But I ask this time will I ever get to come back home to Queens

My Daddy worked the engines, my brothers just the same

But just one returned that September morn when the sky went up in flames

Twas not for me another path I’d chosen right or wrong

For the infantry is part of me sing up those Yankee songs!

From Belle Harbour down to Woodside we walked in days long gone,

Through Breezy Point and Rockaway we drank and sang our songs,

T’was there I met an Irish Rose, the fairest New York’s seen,

And eyes as blue as the Harbour you were the pride of New York, Queens

Then the skies went black I soon was back awoken from that dream

To blood on sand in a far off land and a mother’s deathly screams

Oh Molly I’m a broken man tell Sean and Courtney please

I wish I could touch your face and be back home in Queens

In a wooden case lies another son I can see all in this room

And a widow now with two lost boys and a girl without her groom

Put me up in a picture frame next to Daddy, Frank and Steve

And raise a glass in the Ladder Bar to the boys of New York Queens

Young Danny boy did but try to avenge these awful things

And in his letter we can see he died for his loved ones and his friends

A pipers air will warm their graves this September for the green,

And his ghost will pass into your arms again and be back home

Be back home in Queens

　

　

Ghosts Of Our Past

Lyrics by Andy Nolan

 

Roll back the years to the start of this song

To the riverside strolls and The Hopoles and Swan

And the drunken old men, battered and down

Down by the riverside falling around

To the sound of the waves under Hammersmith Bridge

And up by the Odeon looking for digs,

You’re not wanted here, stopped by the law

Coming out of the station just like before

Who’s singing that song Daddy, what’s it about?

The murdering hordes your grandfather cleared out

Stuck in my mind, Connolly and Pearse,

Records on Sunday, the drink and the tears

Brave Sons Of Derry from the soul of a man

The great Patsy Farrell and screw black and tans,

Mass on a Sunday in the Broadway and home

Passing the winos, the broken old souls.

And we all will join in rousing chorus, for the days that we’ll never see again

When our fathers laid a path before us, from suffering to what we have today

Today I was thinking of you coming home,

And the days that have passed, the lonely old roads

That we walked long ago, the wind in the trees

The smell of the cider from the drunks on their knees.

How you must have worked through the muck and the rain

Digging through tunnels to hide others shame,

Those ignorant souls will ne’er understand,

Their own painless history or the pain of the damned.

And we all will join in rousing chorus, for the days that we’ll never see again

When our fathers laid a path before us, from suffering to what we have today

Now I think of the future and the ghosts of our past,

The young ones are good ones, sure built to last,

Just like their fathers, the stories remain,

The love and the hardship, the tears and the strain.

So I leave you with this, not much you may say,

Just hold on to the memories of those who have strayed,

Down those lonely old roads to the back of your mind,

It’s all that we leave with, the rest stays behind

And we all will join in rousing chorus, for the days that we’ll never see again

When our fathers laid a path before us, from suffering to what we have today

To what we have today

　

　

Whitey

Lyrics by Andy Nolan

 

Whitey Whitey where the hell are you?

There’s a bar full of poitin here waiting for you

All the boys here in Southie with Tullamore Dew

For the South Boston chieftain a right loyal crew

Have you gone back Ireland or London or Spain?

Are you sitting with Bin Laden on the coastline of Maine?

They tell us you’re the last of a long line of men

And that we never will see the likes of you again

Well you’ve gone down in history but with us you couldn’t stay

Like another son of Boston the bold JFK

Now we wait for your returning and wish you Gods speed

On the streets of South Boston we cherish your deeds

Whitey Whitey where the hell are you?

There’s a bar full of poteen here waiting for you

All the boys here in Southie with Tullamore Dew

For the South Boston chieftain a right loyal crew

Now we’re sure that your brother could pull a few strings

Maybe down in the senate or the bureau of sins

But we’ll keep the fire burning and the flag flying high

For the South Boston chieftain we’ll fight and we’ll die

Now the day it’s fast coming so let’s clear the way

For “Welcome Home Whitey” you’ll all hear them say

We know he has a plan for to come home and stay

2050 on St.Patricks Day

Whitey Whitey where the hell are you?

There’s a bar full of poteen here waiting for you

All the boys here in Southie with Tullamore Dew

For the South Boston chieftain a right loyal crew

Whitey Whitey where the hell are you?

There’s a bar full of poteen here waiting for you

All the boys here in Southie with Tullamore Dew

For the South Boston chieftain a right loyal crew

　

　

The Honour of the Gael

Lyrics by Enda Mulloy

 

Gun smoke floats down the blood stained mystic & the shadows climb the wall

Over the bridge rings the echo’s crying, the splash of the corpses fall

Will you tell that to their mothers Mickey?

Will you sit and tell them why

Why Charlestown’s children sit there wondering who’s the next to die?

It’s the sound of the gun in the frosty moonlight & the blood stain on your hands

It’s the love of the people who hold on tightly who’ll fight for the working man?

The dream of the glory, the land of the free

And the promise of a better day

We are the Gael the Irish people, together we will stay.

Is it the code of silence that makes them loyal

Or the shamrocks honour true

The friendships bond of brothers fighting

They all look up to the honour of the gael

Long ago we drift from our hungry island, from our homes and our friends we strayed

The banshee wailed o’er the washed out corpses of the ones who had to stay

A new land a new name, a new suit a new game

In Dixie or Boston town

From the red coat to grey coat it’s all just the same, we fought to chop them down.

Is it the code of silence that makes them loyal

Or the shamrocks honour true

The friendships bond of brothers fighting

They all look up to the honour of the gael

Now the years may have parted but feelings remain, the gun is still making the law

For no prayer’s yet been answered or old scores settled yet, but our dreams they forever stand tall

In the hour of darkness when lights they go out

And the sun it has gone down

Through the gun fire smoke come the peoples hope

The soldiers from Charlestown.

Is it the code of silence that makes them loyal

Or the shamrocks honour true

The friendships bond of brothers fighting

They all look up to you

Is it the code of silence that makes them loyal

Or the shamrocks honour true

The friendships bond of brothers fighting

They all look up to the honour of the gael

　

　

Plunkster

 

Originally written as entrance music for World Championship Power-Lifter

Steve “The Plunkster” Plunkett

The track has also been taken on by one of Plunkett’s team mates

Johnny Kiss

　

　

All I Ask

Lyrics by Ronan MacManus

 

I don’t wanna live by the gun

I don’t wanna be someone on the other side of the wall

Don’t wanna be a stranger in my town

Where the hatred drags you down

Til you can’t see love at all

I don’t wanna be around

When it all hits the ground

And old ghosts meet on the blood-stained streets

with the bullet holes

And the banshee cries through machine gun fire

It’s all I ask

It’s all I ask

We’re painting ourselves into this corner of the world

Where the wisdom comes in battle drums

When it used to come in pearls

And the moorhen dives from the sam missiles

It’s all I ask

It’s all I ask

It’s all I ask

It’s all I ask

I don’t wanna live by the gun

I don’t wanna be someone on the other side of the wall

　

　

Christmas in London(2006 version only)

Lyrics by Andy Nolan

 

Take my hand, come with me, we’ll go walking through our streets

To where the Christmas lights are shining on the broadway

Both our coats are buttoned fast and I hope this moment lasts

As we shelter from the winter in our doorway

So it's Christmas on your strand, hold me close, take my hand

As we gaze once again across your waters,

Close your eyes from the chill, let the London streets draw still

And all the blessings of the year shine down before us

Tho we think of those who've gone, through our children they moved on,

And we laugh through teary eyes of days of yonder,

See the little lights and sounds of their laughter all around,

There's a future bright and clear as we've grown stronger.

So it's Christmas on your strand, hold me close, take my hand

As we gaze once again across your waters,

Close your eyes from the chill, let the London streets draw still

And all the blessings of the year shine down before us

Now the wind is blowing cold, and it rush's through your soul,

See the lights shine on the Thames to guide us homewards,

Take the hand of those whose dear, hold the little one's close near,

And may the Lord send down his angels to watch o'er us

So it's Christmas on your strand, hold me close, take my hand

As we gaze once again across your waters,

Close your eyes from the chill, let the London streets draw still

And all the blessings of the year shine down before us

　

　

Mary of the Northolt Rd

Lyrics by Ronan MacManus

 

She tasted of cigarettes and stout

I didn’t start the fire but I couldn’t put it out

Skin as white as chewing gum and teeth of purest gold

How I loved my Mary of the Northolt Rd

It was a lovely summer Monday in July

We started drinking in the house until we drank it dry

We thought we’d go down to the Shawl to find an Irish rose

Instead I found my Mary of the Northolt Rd

I saw her standing up there at the bar

Drinking Guinness, smoking a cigar

But drinking tends to weaken your quality control

And so I started talking to my Mary-O

We started on the Magners and the whiskey

When we got to Diceys she started to get frisky

She said “you’re coming home with me” I did as I was told

I ran away from Mary down the Northolt Rd

I thought she was the girl of my dreams

But in the morning she wasn’t what she seemed

Drinking tends to weaken your quality control

And so I ran away from Mary down the Northolt Rd

A warning to you boys out on the beer

Drinking till you can’t see is not a good idea

You’ll start to get to talking and the next thing that you know

You’ll wake up next to Mary on the Northolt Rd

I thought she was the girl of my dreams

But in the morning she wasn’t what she seemed

Drinking tends to weaken your quality control

And so I ran away from Mary down the Northolt Rd

Drinking tends to weaken your quality control

How I loved my Mary of the Northolt Rd

　

　

BangBang You’re Dead

Lyrics by Ronan MacManus

 

All over the world people get hurt

Got nothing to say

Blood all over the place, don’t remember a face

Don’t remember a name

What makes you think you’re so special

What makes you think you’re so special

The flame flickers so fickle in your little head

It’s so easy just squeeze a little trigger again

It’s just as simple as..

BangBang you’re dead

BangBang you’re dead

No ten minute scene, watching you bleed

The star of the show

No violin music, so fucking amusing

You don’t even know

What makes you think you’re so special

What makes you think you’re so special

The flame flickers so fickle in your little head

It’s so easy just squeeze a little trigger again

It’s just as simple as..

BangBang you’re dead

BangBang you’re dead

All over the world people get hurt

Got nothing to say

The flame flickers so fickle in your little head

It’s so easy just squeeze a little trigger again

It’s just as simple as..

BangBang you’re dead

BangBang you’re dead

BangBang you’re dead

　

　

Dixieland

(Steve Earle)

 

I am Kilrain and I'm a fightin' man and I come from County Clare

And the Brits would hang me for a Fenian so I took me leave of there

And I crossed the ocean in the "Arrianne" the vilest tub afloat

And the captain's brother was a railroad man and he met us the boat

So I joined up with the twentieth Maine like I said my friend I'm a fighting man

And we're marchin' south in the pouring rain and we're all goin' down to Dixieland

I am Kilrain of the twentieth Maine and we fight for Chamberlain

‘Cause he stood right with us when the Johnnies came like a banshee on the wind

When the smoke cleared out of Gettysburg many a mother wept

For many a good boy died there, sure, and the air smelt just like death

I am Kilrain of the twentieth Maine and I'd march to hell and back again

For Colonel Joshua Chamberlain - we're all goin' down to Dixieland

I am Kilrain of the twentieth Maine and I damn all gentlemen

Whose only worth is their father's name and the sweat of a workin' man

Well we come from the farms and the city streets and a hundred foreign lands

And we spilled our blood in the battle's heat

Now we're all Americans

I am Kilrain of the twentieth Maine and did I tell you friend I'm a fightin' man

And I'll not be back this way again, ‘cause we're all goin' down to Dixieland

　

　

My Town

Lyrics by Andy Nolan

 

It's my town and it's here in my hands for the taking

It's my time so stay out of my way I'm not waiting

I've walked through every inch of this town

My heart it beats every footstep and sound

It's my town!

I'm not giving an inch or a mile or a life line

I've taken the best it can give for a life time

The lines on my face to the bridge of my nose

The cracks on my hands to the tears in my clothes

It's my town

It's my town

It's my town

It's my town

It's my town

From a boy to the path laid down by my brothers

Forty Flights is what separates me from the others

This time is mine it's not like before

The moment is now, I'm here at your door

Are you ready

Are you ready

It's my town

It's my town

It's my town

It's my town

Here in the Bunka I've found something worth fighting for

It's a blood bond of brothers and I'm taking it right to your door

With the air in my lungs, my breath on the breeze

The beat of my heart and the angst from my knees

It's my town

It's my town

It's my town

It's my town

It's my town

It’s Charlestown

　

　

Better Man Than Me

Lyrics by Ronan MacManus

 

Growing up surrounded by hateful people’s stares

You won’t let the sound of it turn hope into despair

Through all the provocation, through all that you have seen

To hold your tongue, not load your gun

You’re a better man than me

Though every hour in this town is drenched in mortal sin

They pelt your home with bricks & stones, still you won’t let them win

Despite all these temptations you turn the other cheek

No you won’t crack, you won’t fight back

You’re a better man than me

Oh a better man

Oh a better man

Despite that generation & all their wicked dreams

To turn your face & walk away

You’re a better man than me

& despite all these temptations you turn the other cheek

No you won’t crack, you won’t fight back

You’re a better man than me

Oh a better man

Oh a better man

Through all the provocation, through all that you have seen

To hold your tongue, not load your gun

You’re a better man than me

You’re a better man than me

　

　

McBratney from the Kitchen

Lyrics by Andy Nolan

 

A man of brawn and beer in a Staten Island bar

Said with a voice so clear Fill up me fuckin jar!

But it was to be his last for he’d pay now for his past

James McBratney from the kitchen was to go out with a blast

Though out numbered 3 to 1 he’d let no greaser have it said

That a Westie from Hells Kitchen let John Gotti have his head

When told “We’ve come to arrest you” McBratney knew for sure

With one arm he put the three assassins sprawled across the floor

Though he bravely stood his ground his life he still would lose

Like so many from the Kitchen he knew brawling and knew booze

From choir boys to men, with the strength and guts of ten

They were feared through out Manhattan where they met their bloody end

Since the days of Paddy Duggan the Westside knew no rest

Studs McElroy and Featherstone were those who ran the west

With alcoholic guts and wild narcotic nuts

Jimmy Coonan soon was rulin a Hells Kitchen full of fucks

Now on the other side of town big Paul was soon concerned

When he learned of these wild men and the hell in which they burned

With McBratneys guts in mind no solution could he find

Castellano called for Coonan for to put the past behind

Now these days are now since gone and these boys died by the gun

Like the Clantons and McLowerys when a different West was won

No never no more is what the coppers swore

But one day it may get hotter than it ever was before