The Sons of Liberty
On the fifteenth day of June, brave boys
At the dawning of the day,
Our gallant ship, the Lancet
Did land in York Bay.
Our sheets was wet and loggy
And we spread them broad to dry
The Irish heroes landed,
But the Lord knows who's to die.
The French, the Dutch, the Spanish
They must cruelly hunted be,
They poured in the drop shot
With more barbarity;
They poured in the drop shot
And our men they got away.
Wasn't that a sad exception
To the North Amerikee ?
Our wives at home a-weeping
Most melancholy cry,
A-mourning for their husbands
Lying all in their graves;
And children crying: 'Mother,
We'll never rue the day
That we came to lose our fathers
In the North Amerikee.
Now to conclude my ditty
And to end my moumful song:
Success to Andrew Jackson,
And God bless George Washington.
God prosper and protect them both
On the land or on the sea.
Success to all those knighted men
And the Sons of Liberty.
see also SONSLIB1
from English Folk Somgs from the Appalachian Mountains, Sharp
Collected from Mrs. William Wooton, Hindman, KY, 1917
@America @Irish @Revolution @war
filename[ SONSLIB2
play.exe SONSLIB2
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