The Irish Rovers - Emigration Medley lyrics

Now the ship it sails in half an hour To cross the broad Atlantic Me friends are standing on the quay In grief and sorry frantic I'm just about to sail away On the good ship Dan O'Leary The anchor's weighed and the gangway's up I'm leaving Tipperary Good-bye Mrs. Durkin I'm sick and tired of working No more I'll dig the praties No longer I'll be poor For as sure as me name is Barney I'm off to Californy Instead of digging praties I'll be digging lumps of gold So fare thee well my Darling Marriane We sail at the break of day O'er the raging foam to see a home On the shores of Americay We sailed from Cork one wintry day With a grey and a stormy sky Our friends were standing on the quay The women stood and cried Ah but we were young and out for fun And riches we would find So lift you're gla** and drink a toast To the girls we left behind So Nellie dear drink up you're beer We're leaving in the morn Aboard the ship the Alice Grey For Frisco round the horn Next morning before judge and jury For trial I had to appear Then the judge he says me young fellow The case against you is quite clear And seven long years is your sentence Oh your going to Van Dieman's Land Far away from your friends and relations To follow the Black Velvet Band Fine girl you are! And now the storm is raging And we are far from shore And our good ould ship is rolling about And the rigging is all tore But the secret of my mind my love You're the girl I do adore And still I live in hopes to see The Holy Ground once more Fine girl you are! We landed on the other side In three and thirty days And drinking over a parting gla** We went our separate ways We took each comrade by the hand And whiskey flew galore And we thought of all our absent friends On the lovely shamrock shore I'm not in San Francisco And me fortune it is made Me pockets loaded down with gold I'll throw away me spade Where ther's gold and money plenty For the poor and for the gentry And the next time that you hear from me I'llwrite you from New York So it is good bye Mrs. Durkin I'm sick and tired of working No more I'll dig the praties No longer I'll be poor For as sure as me name is Barney I'm off to Californy Instead of digging praties I'll be digging lumps of gold