Lirik Lagu Young Ned Of The Hill - The Pogues
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Have you ever walked the lonesome hillsAnd heard the curlews cryOr seen the raven black as nightUpon a windswept skyTo walk the purple heatherAnd hear the westwind cryTo know that's where the rapparee must die
Since Cromwell pushed us westwardTo live our lowly livesThere's some of us have deemed to fightFrom Tipperary mountains highNoble men with wills of ironWho are not afraid to dieWho'll fight with gaelic honour held on high
A curse upon you Oliver CromwellYou who raped our MotherlandI hope you're rotting down in hellFor the horrors that you sentTo our misfortunate forefathersWhom you robbed of their birthright"To hell or Connaught" may you burn in hell tonight
Of one such man I'd like to speakA rapparee by name and deedHis family dispossessed and slaughteredThey put a price upon his headHis name is known in song and storyHis deeds are legends stillAnd murdered for blood moneyWas young Ned of the hill
You have robbed our homes and fortunesEven drove us from our landYou tried to break our spiritBut you'll never understandThe love of dear old IrelandThat will forge an iron willAs long as there are gallant menLike young Ned of the hill
A curse upon you Oliver CromwellYou who raped our MotherlandI hope you're rotting down in hellFor the horrors that you sentTo our misfortunate forefathersWhom you robbed of their birthright"To hell or Connaught" may you burn in hell tonight
Since Cromwell pushed us westwardTo live our lowly livesThere's some of us have deemed to fightFrom Tipperary mountains highNoble men with wills of ironWho are not afraid to dieWho'll fight with gaelic honour held on high
A curse upon you Oliver CromwellYou who raped our MotherlandI hope you're rotting down in hellFor the horrors that you sentTo our misfortunate forefathersWhom you robbed of their birthright"To hell or Connaught" may you burn in hell tonight
Of one such man I'd like to speakA rapparee by name and deedHis family dispossessed and slaughteredThey put a price upon his headHis name is known in song and storyHis deeds are legends stillAnd murdered for blood moneyWas young Ned of the hill
You have robbed our homes and fortunesEven drove us from our landYou tried to break our spiritBut you'll never understandThe love of dear old IrelandThat will forge an iron willAs long as there are gallant menLike young Ned of the hill
A curse upon you Oliver CromwellYou who raped our MotherlandI hope you're rotting down in hellFor the horrors that you sentTo our misfortunate forefathersWhom you robbed of their birthright"To hell or Connaught" may you burn in hell tonight
