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User Name Thread Name Subject Posted
Calach Lyr/Chords Req: Plains of Waterloo (29) Lyr Add: THE PLAINS OF WATERLOO (from Ian Hall) 19 Jan 01

How about a new song altogether: Many Irishmen fought on Boney's side...

Ian Hall

Oh Come all you loyal Irishmen whatever your degree,
I hope you'll pay attention, and listen, now, to me,
I'll tell you o' an patriot; loyal, proud and true,
How he fought in Spain and Portugal, and got slain at Waterloo.

Now the young man that I speak about was proper, tall and thin,
He was mild in his behaviour; complete in every limb,
His cheeks were like the roses red, his eyes a lovely hue,
There's no one here that would compare with my love at Waterloo.

Now, my love he was a soldier bold, wi' his shako and his gun,
When Ireland fell and traitors rose, his ramble he begun,
He was faithful to Napoleon, and he wore a coat of blue,
He never thought it'd be his lot, to be slain at Waterloo.

When Boney's star was in the sky, my love he marched away,
He told me that he loved me true; would marry me some day,
He said that he'd return to me, whatever would ensue,
But now he lies with sightless eyes on he plains of Waterloo.

When the Irish cause was over and the leaders captured all,
My love he swore he wasn't done, took his musket from the wall,
He donned his coat and marched away to fight the fight anew,
And now he's bled in fields of dead, on the plains of Waterloo.

Many's the river he had crossed, 'though ankle deep in mud,
An' many's the battle he had fought, 'though shin-bone deep in blood,
He fought for France and Bonaparte, to the end his cause was true.
He fought and died for Irish pride on the plains of Waterloo.

Wi' my true love gone across the waves, no other man I'll take,
O'er lonely roads and through shady groves, I'll wander for his sake,
I'll sing of a young Irishman, who was Irish through and through
I'll tell everyone of my Irishman, who died at Waterloo.

No man can ever take his place, no man will ever try
Though far from his dear homeland, for Ireland he did die.
He held inside a heart o' green, but wore a coat of blue,
And his Irish blood runs in the mud, on the plains of Waterloo.

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