paroles de chanson Roddy McCorley - The Dubliners
Roddy
McCorley
A
Ballad
of
the
1798
rising
See
the
fleet
foot
host
of
men
That
speed
with
faces
wan,
From
farmstead
and
from
fisher?
s
cot
Along
the
banks
of
Bann,
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
narrow
street
he
steps
Smiling,
proud
and
young.
About
the
hemp
rope
on
his
neck
The
golden
ringlets
clung
There
was
never
a
tear
in
his
blue
eye,
Both
sad
and
bright
are
they,
For
young
Roddy
McCorley
goes
to
die
On
the
bridge
of
Toome
today.
When
he
last
stepped
up
that
street,
His
shinning
pike
in
hand,
Behind
him
marched
in
grim
array
A
stalwart,
earnest
band.
For
Antrim
town,
for
Antrim
town,
He
led
them
to
the
fray,
And
young
Roddy
McCorley
goes
to
die
On
the
bridge
of
Toome
today.
There
was
never
a
one
of
all
your
dead
More
bravely
fell
in
fray
Than
he
who
marches
to
his
fate
On
the
bridge
of
Toome
today.
True
to
the
last,
true
to
the
last,
He
treads
the
upward
way,
And
young
Roddy
McCorley
goes
to
die
On
the
bridge
of
Toome
today.
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