Well it's by the hush, me boys, and sure that's to hold your noise And listen to poor Paddy's sad narration I was by hunger pressed, and in poverty distressed So I took a thought I'd leave the Irish nation Well I sold me a** and cow, my little pigs and sow My little plot of land I soon did part with And me sweetheart Bid McGee, I'm afraid I'll never see For I left her there that morning broken-hearted Here's to you boys, now take my advice To America I'll have ye's not be going There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin Well meself and a hundred more, to America sailed o'er Our fortunes to be made [sic] we were thinkin' When we got to Yankee land, they shoved a gun into our hands Saying "Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln" Well I think meself in luck, if I get fed on Indian buck And old Ireland is the country I delight in With the devil, I do say, it's curse Americay For I think I've had enough of your hard fightin' Here's to you boys, now take my advice To America I'll have ye's not be going There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin