Christy Moore : Smoke And Strong Whiskey

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How's it going there everybody? You're very welcome to this evening's cabaret I want to thank you for the trouble you're after taking To come and hear me play I know the effort that you make and all the trouble that you have to take When you decide you're gonna go and see a show Your wife says Oh not Christy Moore, we've seen him loads of times before And we're going to miss Gay Byrne on the Late Late Show Well there's people here upon my word from every corner of the world Portarlington Portlaoise and Tullamore From Two Mile House and Poulaphouca From Blacktrench, Cutbush and Boolea Such a crowd I've never seen before Well you are welcome welcome everyone Special branch you're on the run Fine Gael, Fianna Fail or Sinn Fein When the elections are all over We'll all be pushing up clover And everyone in the graveyard votes the same My belly thought my throat was cut And all the restaurants were shut as I was driving out through Kinnegad So I drove on to Mother Hubbard's where I saw a swarm of truckers And I said to myself this place doesn't look too bad In came a forty foot lorry leaking lines of slurry And the king of the road jumped down and he said to me Hey John, don't I know your face Are you Paddy Reilly or Brendan Grace? Are you Mary Black or Freddy White says he Wait 'til I tell you what happened to me today I was coming up the dual carriageway Half a mile the far side on Naas The Irish Army, they were all over the place So I pulled in and rolled my window down The saighdiuiri they surrounded my car I thought it was the third world war Some of the boys were throwin' Shi'ite shapes I said brigadier general what appears to be the trouble He said "Don't forget your shovel" Have you any auld autographs or tapes? I do... what about the leb?

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It was Christmas Eve babe in the drunk tank

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An old man said, Son, won't see another one

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And then he sang a song The Rare Old Mountain Dew

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I turned my face away and dreamed about you Got on a lucky one came in eighteen to one I've got a feeling this year's for me and you So happy Christmas, I love you baby There's gonna be some good time when all our dreams come true

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They've got cars big as bars, they've got rivers of gold

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But the wind goes right through you; it's no place for the old

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When you first took my hand, on a cold Christmas Eve

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You promised me Broadway was waiting for me

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You were handsome you were pretty, queen of New York City

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When the band finished playing they howled out for more

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Sinatra was swinging, all the drunks they were singing

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We kissed on a corner then danced through the night

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The boys of the NYPD choir were singing "Galway Bay"

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And the bells were ringing out for Christmas day

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I could have been someone, well so could anyone

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You took my dreams from me when I first found you

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I kept them with me babe; I put them with my own

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Can't make it all alone, I've built my dreams around you The boys of the NYPD choir were singing "Galway Bay" And the bells were ringing out for Christmas day

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You're a bum, you're a punk, you're an old slut on junk

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Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed

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You scumbag, you maggot, you cheap lousy faggot

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Happy Christmas my arse, I'd rather be dead

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/b

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The boys of the NYPD choir were singing "Galway Bay"

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And the bells were ringing out for Christmas day

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So happy Christmas, I love you baby

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There's gonna be some good time when all our dreams come true

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So, happy Christmas, I love you baby

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See the bright new moon is rising

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Above the land of black and green

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Hear the rebels voices calling

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I will not die though you bury me

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The aunt upstairs in the bed she's calling

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"Why has he forsaken me?"

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Faded pictures in the hallway

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Which one of them brown ghosts is he?

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Bless the wind that shakes the barley

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Curse the spade and curse the plough

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I've counted years and weeks and days

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And I wish to God that I was with you now

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Fare thee well me black-haired diamond

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Fare thee well me own Aisling

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At night fond dreams of you still haunt me

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Far across the grey north sea

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And the wind it blows from the North and South

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To the East And to the West

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I will be like the wind my love

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For I will know no rest

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Until I return to thee

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One, two, three, four telegraph poles

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Burning on the cold black road

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The night is fading into morning

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Give us a drop of your sweet poteen

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The rain was lashing, the sun was rising

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The wind was howling through the trees

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The madness from the mountains crawling

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When I saw you first my own Aisling

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Bless the wind that shakes the barley

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Curse the spade and curse the plough

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I've counted years and weeks and days

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And I wish to God I was with you now

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Fare thee well me black-haired diamond

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Fare thee well me own Aisling

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At night fond dreams of you still haunt me

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Far across the grey north sea

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Kids wear white garters and smell like their mothers

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Whose husbands and fathers alike

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Drink black beer in the same public houses

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Smelling of smoke and strong whiskey Mammies and daddies and skipping ropes Lectures from priests, living in hope They've not mistaken the brand of their coats Paid for by their spiritual teachings A busy year this, the streets running red How many sent to a nuptial bed And how many sent home to a winter of graves And how many wait in for the slaughter

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Oh-oh the holy ground

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Ceud mile failte, there's saints and there's scholars to see

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Oh-oh the holy ground

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The faraway hills aren't as green as they once used to be

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It's Easter again and we cannot forget Brothers and sisters and all that was said So practice your pipes, stand proud in the wet But the eyes of the world are upon you God in his mercy has given us men To lead us to peace but they can't bring an end To the profits that pay off the lease on the land We still send them over the water Seventeen years and Kelly's a man Who stands on the street with a gun in his hand He's protecting the pipers that play in the band While the enemy waits with an army Oh-oh the holy ground Ceud mile failte, there's saints and there's scholars to see Oh-oh the holy ground The faraway hills aren't as green as they once used to be Dia le hEireann, suckle the empire Dia le hEireann, suffer the loss Of the green to the blue while the media feeds On the blood and the pain and the hatred Father walks home on the colourless night And the organisation has blinded his sight His wife and his kids are sleeping tonight In the arms of sweet Jesus and Mary Oh-oh the holy ground Ceud mile failte, there's saints and there's scholars to see Oh-oh the holy ground The faraway hills aren't as green as they once used to be

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I was sittin' beside the road in Blackjack County

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Not knowing that that the Sheriff paid a bounty

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For men like me that didn't have a penny to their name

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So he locked my leg to thirty-five pounds of Blackjack County Chains And all we had to eat was bread and water And each day we built the road a mile and a quarter A Black Snake Whip, would cut the back, of any man who complained But we couldn't fight back wearing thirty-five pounds of Blackjack County Chains One night while the Sheriff was gently sleeping We all gathered round him slowly creeping Heaven help me to forget that night in the cold cold rain When we beat him to death with thirty-five pounds of Blackjack County Chains

Slide solo over verse chords

Now the whip marks are all healed and I'm thankful There's nothing but the scar around my ankle But most of all I'm glad no man will be a slave again To a Black Snake Whip, and thirty-five pounds of Blackjack County Chain To a Black Snake Whip, and thirty-five pounds of Blackjack County Chain

Christy Moore : Smoke And Strong Whiskey
1991

Welcome To The Cabaret

Fairytale Of New York

Aisling

Smoke And Strong Whiskey

Blackjack County Chains