The Old Bog Road lyrics

by Finbar Furey

My feet are here on Broadway
This blessed harvest morn,
And oh! the ache that's in there
For the spot where I was born.
My weary hands are blistered,
From work in cold and heat!
But oh! to swing a scythe again
In fields of Irish wheat.
For I the chance to wander back,
Or own a king's abode.
Just soon I'd see the hawthorn tree
By the Old Bog Road.

When I was young and restless
My mind was ill at ease,
Through dreaming of America,
And it's gold beyond the seas.
Oh, sorrow take their money,
'Tis hard to gain the same,
And what's this world to any man
When no one speaks his name.
I've had my day and here I am
Building bricks by load.
A long three thousand miles away
From the Old Bog Road.

Da da dee...

Sure this life's a weary puzzle,
Past finding out by man,
I'll live this life for what it's worth
And be the best I can.
Since no one cares a rush for me
I need not grieve no more,
I'll go my way and draw my pay
And smoke my pipe alone.
Each human heart must know its grief
Though little be it slow
So God be with you, Ireland,
And the Old Bog Road.

So God be with you, Ireland...
And the Old Bog Road.

Song Details

Finbar Furey
Finbar Furey

Lyrics: Teresa Brayton - Irish nationalist, writer and poet from Kilbrook, County Kildare, Ireland (1868-1943)

Music: Madeline King O'Farrelly (Rochfortbridge, County Westmeath, Ireland)

Brief: The author's residence was located near Bog road in a town called Ferrans (Ferns). She tells a story of a man who grew up in the fields near Bog Road where his youthful restlessness and dreams of a better life saw him emigrate to America. As life rolls on he reminisces about his home in all its beautiful simplicity, the death of his mother and sweetheart that he left behind... "You can take the people out of Ireland but you can never take Ireland out of the people."

Translations:
A'my - and my
Och - oh
sorra - Irish word for 'not'

Category: Irish / Emigration

Original Lyrics: We have included the original lyrics of 5 verses by Teresa Brayton. Finbar's version has 3, with the omission of verses 2 and 4.

Other Recording Artists with Celtic Origins: Willie Brady, Johnny McEvoy, Daniel O'Donnell, Finbar Wright, Eileen Donaghy, Hugo Duncan, Foster and Allen, Anthony Kearns, Josef Locke, Hank Locklin...

Logo The Old Bog Road by The Fureys & Davey Arthur is featured on the album The Scattering (released 6th Aug, 2007).

The Old Bog Road - original lyrics

by Teresa Brayton

My feet are here on Broadway
This blesses harvest morn
But oh the ache that's in them
For the spot where I was born
My weary hands are blistered 
From work in cold and heat
And oh to swing a scythe today
Through fiels of Irish wheat
Had I the chance the wander back
Or own a king's abode
'Tis soon I'd see the hawthorn tree
by the Old Bog Road

My mother died last sprintime
When Ireland's fields of green
The neighbors said her waking 
Was the finest ever seen
There were snowdrops and primroses
Piled up beside her bed
And Ferran's Church was crowded
When her funeral Mass was said
But here was I on Broadway
And bitter was my load
When they carried out her coffin
Down the Old Bog Road

When I was young and innocent
A'my mind was ill at ease
Through dreaming of America
And gold beyond the seas
Och, sorra take their money
'Tis hard to get that same
And what's the world to any man
When no one speaks his name?
I've had my day and here I am 
And bitter is my load
A long 3000 miles away
From the Old Bog Road

There was a decent girl at home
Who used to walk with me
Her eyes were soft and sorrowful 
Like moonbeams on the sea
Her name was Mary Dwyer
But that was long ago
And the ways of God are wiser than
The things a man may know
She died the year I left her
And bitter was my load
I'd best forget the times we met
On the Old Bog Road

Och, Life's a weary puzzle
Past finding out by man
I take the day for what it's worth
And do the best I can
Since no one cares a rush for me
What need a man to moan
I go my way and draw my pay
And smoke my pipe alone
Each human heart must know it's grief
Though little be it's load
So God be with old Ireland
And the Old Bog Road

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