O, Padre querido

Oh, dear Father, have you heard me speak of Erin's Isle
Its green valleys, its noble scene, its rugged and wild mountains
You say it's a pleasant place where a prince could dwell
Why have you left it then, the reason they tell me?

My son, I loved our homeland with energy and pride
Until a plague fell upon the land and the sheep and cattle died
The rents and taxes to pay, I could not redeem them
And that's the reason why cruel deals left my old Skibbereen

So I remember on a gloomy November day
The landlord and his agent came to drive us all away
So they set my house on fire with their yellow demon spleen
And that's another reason why I left Old Skibbereen

Your mother, too, God rest her soul, sat on the snow-covered ground
She fainted in her anguish of desolation round
She never passed but it was her way to the long sleep of death
And found a quiet grave, my child, in lovely Skibbereen

So I remember the year of forty-eight
When Erin's children rose to fight against our fate
I was hunting through the mountains like a traitor to the Queen
And that's another reason why I left Old Skibbereen

Oh dear father, the day will come when revenge will call out loud
And we will rise with Erin's rally children one and all
You'll be the man to drive the van beneath our green flag
And loud and high we'll raise the cry, 'The revenge of Skibbereen!'