paroles de chanson Roddy McCorley - Tommy Makem , The Clancy Brothers
O
see
the
fleet-foot
host
of
men,
Who
march
with
faces
drawn,
From
farmstead
and
from
fishers'
cot,
Along
the
banks
of
Ban;
They
come
with
vengeance
in
their
eyes.
Too
late!
Too
late
are
they,
For
young
Roddy
McCorley
goes
to
die
On
the
bridge
of
Toome
today.
Up
the
narrow
street
he
stepped,
So
smiling,
proud
and
young.
About
the
hemp-rope
on
his
neck,
The
golden
ringlets
clung;
There's
ne'er
a
tear
in
his
blue
eyes,
Fearless
and
brave
are
they,
As
young
Roddy
McCorley
goes
to
die
On
the
bridge
of
Toome
today.
When
last
this
narrow
street
he
trod,
His
shining
pike
in
hand
Behind
him
marched,
in
grim
array,
A
earnest
stalwart
band.
To
Antrim
town!
To
Antrim
town,
He
led
them
to
the
fray,
But
young
Roddy
McCorley
goes
to
die
On
the
bridge
of
Toome
today.
There's
never
a
one
of
all
your
dead
More
bravely
died
in
fray
Than
he
who
marches
to
his
fate
In
Toomebridge
town
today;
ray
True
to
the
last!
True
to
the
last,
He
treads
the
upwards
way,
And
young
Roddy
McCorley
goes
to
die
On
the
bridge
of
Toome
today.
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